Crichton Vs PREDATOR: In the Belly of the Beast
by Christopher Nihil
Summary: In a remote region of the Uncharted Territories, Crichton and the crew of Moya must form an alliance with a crew of Peacekeepers and their prisoners on a crippled prison ship against a deadly alien hunter who can turn invisible.
1. Chapter 1

Crichton vs. PREDATOR: In the Belly of the Beast (Pt. 1)

By: Spacelord

Rating: T (Profanity and violence).

Summary: RE-POST. On a remote and disabled prison ship, Crichton, Aeryn, D'Argo and Zhaan are trapped with a band of Peacekeepers and their prisoners who are being killed off by a deadly alien who can turn invisible.

Spoilers: Various, through the first two seasons, but before LG&M.

Disclaimers: Farscape and its characters are the property of Henson Company, Hallmark Entertainment and the Sci-Fi Channel. PREDATOR is the property of 20th Century Fox. All other characters and story concept are the property of Christopher L. Stine. All characters used here are for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended and no monetary compensation has been received.

Category: Crossover, Farscape/PREDATOR.

Archiving: Certainly. Please let me know when you do it.

Note: It's taken me a long time to get this one right, and I think I'm finally there. I owe much thanks to Mreen for her beta work and advice. "Pink Moon" by Nick Drake.

****

Space is deep here- and deadly too.

Good enough reason enough why anyone would ever bother to traverse this part of the stars to begin with. There was nothing around for over a trillion metras. If you became stranded, you were doomed. End of story.

"Lieutenant, do scans indicate anything?"

The vessel raced across the darkness, occasionally disappearing behind a swirling dark cloud, and swiftly appearing out another. Subterfuge hardly seemed necessary, the expanse stretched on to infinity. Scans from the craft searched methodically for any signs of traffic that it might encounter. Nothing found, as always. In the ass-end of the Uncharted Territories, secrets were well hidden.

"Negative sir. Field is clear. No ships detected in the Nil."

It was aptly named.

"Fine. Continue on."

By definition, the Nil was an absence of anything tangible- swarms of vaporous clouds, cosmic debris and little else. Its sole planet was a gaseous giant with a few tiny moons slowly orbiting it- last survivor of a long dead system. Official Peacekeeper designation was Marker #1138, not even important enough to give it a proper name. Only after their ships passed it did they acknowledge any significance: that the journey to prison colony Ivon-Arda was halfway complete. Other than that, it remained permanently obscured by clouds.

Still, they pressed on. The ship continued its course in passive solitude. Peacekeeper prison transport _Acroyan_ continued undeterred to its destination for the last time.

"Increase speed to hetch five."

"Yes, sir."

The Nils' cloudy tendrils reached out and connected Peacekeeper, Scarran and the Uncharted Territories together, making it both useful and hindering. Peacekeeper units frequently braved the routes through it for various operations. Ambushing Scarran convoys, resupplying troops and deporting undesirable prisoners far outweighed the negative- most of the time, anyway. It suited their purposes, even if they hated it.

It was suffocating, solitary, dead. Even starlight died inside it.

And then there were the ghost stories. Not the black ghosts of special operations fame, but the kind that went bump in the night. The Nil reputed to be haunted. At least, the Sebaceans thought so. Peacekeepers born and bred on command carriers laughed at any superstitions introduced by youthful conscripts from some distant farming colony. Even if they could find no other reason to explain how one hundred-plus ships were found drifting lifeless with their power sources disabled, distress signals transmitting futilely and entire crews butchered.

On the ships, bodies would be discovered lying in neat rows, often mangled and bloody. Others hung by their ligaments from the ships' beams, stripped of their hides. Whole corridors splattered red with blood. Even worse, some of the bodies found were decapitated.

And the same messages repeated themselves in final log entries on dozens of different craft: they never even saw it coming.

"Marker #1138 on viewscreen, sir."

Stories of a murderous ghost made for bad propaganda, let alone bad crew morale, and Peacekeeper High Command made no levity for tall tales. Officers, techs and soldiers alike remained silent, disallowing any admittance to superstitions in front of their superiors. Reprisal would be far worse; and they could always experience that firsthand. Especially from reports that reeked of children's fables- something meant to frighten you into staying in line.

High command's official statement said it was a rogue Scarran was exacting revenge for its fallen comrades. It made more sense to the skeptical and superstitious alike...

"I can see it, Lieutenant."

Until Scarran ships began to be found drifting lifeless, several of its crewmembers strung up and missing their oversized heads. That was the bittersweet: at least whatever it was did not discriminate in its choice of victims, as long as it could take a trophy. The name they gave the ghost became wholly appropriate to its reputation: _Haaksekah_-demon headhunter.

The man stood in front of the _Acroyan's_ viewscreen, staring at the empty star field before him, his right hand holding a silver meditation ball, twirling it with his fingers. He did not need to be in the command chamber, he was just bored. This part of the journey consisted of flying through the Nil, and trying not to fall asleep in a stupor. He despised the Nil as much as the last Peacekeeper captain waiting impatiently for it's turbulent clouds to subside and see the calm of normal space again. Then again, the last captain was killed. Prisoner transport had never been an elite position to lust for anyway. It was grot work, at best.

He liked to tell himself that they groomed him for better things. So he did as instructed keeping those in Peacekeeper High Command satisfied. _Haaksekah_ was the furthest thing from his mind. Fear was not an option to exercise, especially in front of the prisoners they transported. The mission took full priority. In five solar days, the ship would arrive at Ivon-Arda, their task completed.

The faint green glow of the gaseous giant pulsed intermittently as they approached halfway point. There was only the need to press on a little longer. The journey, for better or worse, was half finished. Relief was the only emotion felt on the _Acroyan_. No one felt caution, not even to pause to consider three dead moons slowly orbiting #1138 being used as cover for a potential ambush.

Neither did anyone even consider a gray craft that appeared out from beyond the planet's farthest moon. Sleek and fast, it raced towards the hammond side of the Peacekeeper ship, stealth mode rendering it invisible.

The vehicle jettisoned its front assembly and turned away, quickly fading into the dark clouds surrounding it. Only the egg-shaped pod, floating into the _Acroyan's_ flight path, remained behind as evidence.

"Captain Selane? There is a small craft approaching us on the hammond side."

His eyebrow arched up, mildly curious something else would be out here. "Is it Scarran?"

"Unknown sir. It doesn't match any known ship designs in our data stores."

He walked over to the female officer, covering the distance in three long strides.

"Distance?"

"Fifty metras and closing."

He wasted no time contacting it. _"Unidentified craft, this is Peacekeeper prison transport Acroyan. Identify yourself and your intentions."_

Silence.

"_Unidentified craft, this is Captain Belzar Selane. You are approaching the Peacekeeper prison transport, Acroyan. Identify yourself and your intentions, or we will apprehend you and find out by force, if necessary."_ His impatience grew fast; reputation never mentioned it as a better virtue.

Still, there was no response.

"Enough of this. Capture it."

_Acroyan's_ docking web deployed and easily snared the small pod. As it entered into the docking bay, the echo of boot heels marching in unison rang out as the detachment of soldiers formed in the main hangar, ready to seize the pod and capture any crew. They smiled to themselves, grateful for a little excitement. It would help ease the boredom they had suffered through for the past weeken. They could not wait to see the look on the pilot's face when they confronted him.

****

The occupant in the pod observed the landing approach as the hangar doors opened, sizing up the squad of black-clad soldiers. A clawed finger extended and pressed a sequence of buttons on the gauntlet it wore on its arm- systems check. On the other gauntlet it wore, twin blades extended. It held them up to inspect their edge. Even in the subdued lighting of the cockpit, their lethality flashed as they turned under careful scrutiny- they were sharper than any razor.

Although it did not resemble one, a smile began to form under the helmet it wore. In less than two solar days, nearly all of the Peacekeeper crew and their prisoners would be dead.

_Haaksekah_ had arrived on the _Acroyan_.

****

Even through the thick glass, he felt the cold.

John Crichton stood on Moya's terrace looking out at the abyss they had been traveling through for the past three solar days. But for the lone DRD that silently glided into the doorway to observe him, he was alone, preferring the moment for privacy. It had never been his nature to be elusive, but recent events had not been kind to him, the lone naïve wayward human.

Pilot had suggested an emergency exit through what he called the Nil to widen the distance between them and another addition to the long list of people who wanted to kill them- him. Much to their chagrin though, since they had not finished restocking their dwindling supplies. But, things like this frequently happened with him around, so they were not unprepared for it.

He could write out the tale on note cards, since they had become second nature to him. Only names and places needed to be changed: Human goes down to a commerce planet with companions to purchase supplies; local mob boss recognizes his face as the fugitive on the Peacekeeper wanted beacon in the market square; tells the people the fugitive broke his nose and is dangerous; even if said mobster does not say that he propositioned the raven-haired companion of the fugitive with a perverted sex favor and tried to grope her, hence the reason for the right hook to the mobster's snout. Then there is the inevitable shooting and fleeing and barely getting away from the unruly mob with their lives, with Chiana flirting with several locals thrown in.

They were always risky ventures, not to mention costly. Actually, they were a pain in the ass, just like Chiana.

But the look he gets to see on his raven-haired companion's face? Priceless.

Pilot felt confident the mobster's pursuing ships would not follow Moya into the Nil, even if it were only along its outer edge. Reputation alone kept the shipping routes empty. Besides that, the mobster had contacted Scorpius and the command carrier was already sighted nearby. A few days through the Nil would put them in much safer systems.

He agreed with that, assuming that there would be a few days of rest without any major new problems to deal with, such as the one where the voice of Scorpius kept whispering to him in his mind.

That name was a disease. The Peacekeeper scientist gave him no quarter since the day he discovered that someone implanted the secrets of wormhole technology deep within his subconscious_._ He never even asked for the privilege. Now he was hunted. It was not like deer hunting with his father back on Earth when he was young. Here he was the prey to some gimp in black leather. He wasn't used to someone lusting for more than gold or diamonds. It would never be a comfortable relationship.

"_The wormhole technology you possess in your brain makes you to my knowledge, unique in the galaxy. And unique… is always valuable."_

_Go to hell._

The information was a two-way sword. He wished it were not there, yet hoping he could unlock it and find his way to Earth. For now, he would be happily content just being left alone.

If only the voice would leave.

At least those aboard Moya have had peace and quiet for the past several days. Zhaan kept to herself, occupied with meditating to her goddess and preparing medicines she was able to purchase on the commerce planet right before he scored his knockout punch on the alien godfather. Pilot and Moya kept to themselves. Rygel grumbled about Chiana cheating on a few games of Tadek, farted enough helium to fill balloons at a carnival and ate way too much. D'Argo spent his spare time pouring over information on the slave mines his son was reportedly sold to, with occasional interruptions by Chiana who distracted him from time to time by dragging him into her room. _A little stress relief,_ Crichton thought with a snicker. Pity Aeryn did not have the same idea.

And her name was his medicine to Scorpius's sickness. When she was not repairing her Prowler, she began spending more time with him, much to his delight, even if he tried not to show it so much. Even a bad day of arguing with her was better than a day of anything else. Her words, her smile and her support made up for all the nights lying alone pondering his fate.

"_Oh John, you are such a romantic."_

_Go away, Scorpy._

Two solar days ago, he finally started to talk to her about the voices, which were occurring more frequently. She would nod sympathetically, trying to find some words of comfort. Her eyebrows arched up sadly when his voice cracked slightly from the torment that vibrated between his ears. He was grateful just from the compassion that formed in her eyes. Had it not been for her, he may have already taken Farscape One and flown it kamikaze right into an asteroid. As he ached, she mended his broken soul. No guy could not help but love her for that.

But still, he felt the cold.

He looked back out the windows. A swirl of purple and blue streamed faintly along the contours of the terrace's canopy, fading into the dark. It almost felt like moving underwater. 20,000 leagues in space and Captain Nemo still had not sighted the giant squid. A space kraken would have been a little too much to deal with.

The Nil began to give him goosebumps. For a region of space, vast as it was, it really was creepy. He was beginning to understand the dread that D'Argo told him about. From his vantage point, the Nil looked like it might be an Oort cloud, or the remains of a massive nebula. Either way, it was a phenomenon for the books.

Adjusting his eyes, he could see the faint glow of a planet forming through the mist. It was the only visible reference point in what had been an empty field. It looked like a gas giant, with swirls of green and blue mixing and moving slowly around it. The resemblance to Neptune was more than passing, but that was another galaxy away- perhaps. Hope flickered briefly, wishing that it really were a reference point that could tell him where he was in the universe.

Finishing off the bottle of Enkh Zhaan had introduced him to, he turned and walked down the corridor to the main hangar, the little DRD following him from behind. He needed a distraction. The planet was like him after a sort- alone and drifting off in the dark clouds covering up their face from everyone.

"I saw it written and I saw it say, pink moon is on its way…"

His voice echoed off the walls in a solid vibration, it was not unlike like sharing words with Aeryn.

"And none of you stand so tall, pink moon gonna get ye all... And it's a pink moon, yes, it's a pink moon…"

"Crichton, you sing as bad as Rygel. And I doubt you saw a pink moon out here in the Nil. How the frell it's pink to begin with is anybody's guess."

He turned to the sound of the voice, and grinned. It was the best view in the Uncharted Territories. Aeryn Sun, former Peacekeeper and object of his undivided attention, was bending over working on the controls in the cockpit of her Prowler. She never even looked up to respond to his singing, all he saw was her backside. That was just fine with him.

"And quit staring at my pink moon, or you will get a black eye," she said, not trying to disguise her half-hearted attempt at earth humor.

He laughed out loud. Of all the people he could have been stuck with, fate put him with her, little miss tough chick of the universe, black leather and all. Being stranded on a desert island with Cameron Diaz in a coconut bikini would not even rate.

"Now, Aeryn, darlin', would I do that?" He said, walking up to her. "I'm a southern gentleman, modesty is my creed."

She grunted. "Right. And moon-keys might fly out my arse."

He laughed even harder. Hearing her develop a sense of humor, even an infrequent one, never failed to brighten his day. "You're in danger of becoming a bona fide human if you keep that up."

Aeryn stood up, wiping her hands on an old rag. "Shoot me if that ever happens." She turned to face him, her long dark hair swinging around, tied back in a ponytail. "Why so happy? Not that I'm complaining, but we're flying through the Nil, it's not exactly receptive to high spirits."

He reached his hand up to help her off the platform she was standing on. The timing seemed bad to tell her his feelings. Maybe she already knew. His current situation made him hesitant to blurt out anything rash since Scorpius could cause that to happen.

"I'm forever the optimist," he said. "It's a human trait, like singing silly romantic songs."

"Or punching out an oversexed mobster who wanted to tie me up and stick his shirkie right in my-"

"Whoa! Stop! Okay now, that's too much information, Sunshine. My virgin ears can't handle that right now. Besides, his teabagging attempt was bad enough."

She grinned. Embarrassing him was a rare but satisfying thing. For a change, she got the opportunity to put him on the spot. Although, she never thought she would see the day she adapted some of his habits. Seeing him rise up to 'defend her honor' as he had called it, was a whole new experience. No one had ever come to her defense like that, not even as a Peacekeeper. She liked the feeling, even if she were too proud to admit it to him openly.

"It's time for dinner," she said. "The others are probably getting ready now. Pilot says we should be out of this void by tomorrow, and I, for one, will be grateful."

"Ladies first." he said, extending his arm to the doorway. "So what is it about the Null that you get so creeped out about?"

"The Nil, John."

"Whatever. Why the big deal?"

She looked at him strangely, but not surprised to hear him ask. Stories of the Nil were common knowledge to the others, not to lost humans. Ignorance could be seen as a blessing.

"There are stories among the Peacekeepers. To many, this is a place of no return. A lot of people have been killed out here. "Whole ships' crews have been found massacred, and their heads taken as trophies. They say you never see it coming until it's too late."

"See _who_ coming?"

"Haaksekah."

"Heat Seeker?"

"No," she said tolerantly. "Haaksekah. The demon that hunts for heads."

"Ah. I see. Wonderful."

His mind shifted for a moment, absorbing the newfound fact she told him_. There's a ghostly serial killer in the Uncharted Territories? May as well be._ He had encountered just about everything else, and they tried to kill him, too.

"And you," he said. "Do you believe these stories?"

She tilted her head, her raven-black tresses falling to one side, unsure how to respond. "Well, Peacekeepers have some documented reports that I saw. I don't really believe in ghosts, but there have been many Peacekeepers killed out here by someone. Or something. And they still don't know what."

He nodded. _Haaksekah_. Yet another name to add to the list of psychos he knew of- Jack the Ripper, John Wayne Gacy, Charles Manson, Jeffrey Dahmer and now a demon headhunter. More monsters. The universe was not friendly. Life out in the Uncharteds might have been amazing and full of variety, but most of it seemed to hold on to their homicidal impulses.

_Spielberg would have been disappointed,_ he thought to himself.

"_Some things never change, do they John? You should feel right at home out here."_

Scorpius.

"_Pity if you never see them coming up from behind you until its too late."_

Crichton's hands went to his temples. _Go away…_

"_That includes me John. You'll never see me coming, either." _

_Go away… Go away… Go away…_

"_I'm going to get you, John…"_

_Piss off._

"_I'm going to take everything, John. You will lose your friends, your freedom and your mind. Why don't you just turn yourself in? Make it a lot easier for you?"_

_Goddamn you go away you freak get out of my head leave me the hell alone…_

"_Would you like to know what will happen to Aeryn if you don't give yourself to me?"_

_GET OUT OF MY HEAD!_

"John?"

Crichton held his head, cursing silently to himself. His mind went silent again. The voice stopped. He opened his eyes; Aeryn was staring wide-eyed back at him.

"What just happened? Why did your face convulse?"

He rubbed his forehead gently, not answering.

She looked at him, worry etched in blue-gray eyes. "It was the voice again, wasn't it?"

"Yes, That son-of-a-bitch. He comes and goes. Butts right in on any conversation."

"All right, that's it. We need to do something. We'll go to Zhaan, maybe she can figure out what's causing it."

"Its not that easy, Aeryn. This isn't just random. It's like he knows what I'm thinking and he adds to my conversation. I think he really did something to me when we were on that Gammak base."

"_Beware, John. I am become death, the destroyer, the slayer of minds. Beware of Jack the Ripper of the Uncharted Territories coming to get you. Or her."_ If Scorpius had mastered anything, it was the art of irritation.

"Who?"

He looked up. "Who what?"

"Who the frell is Jack the Stripper?"

"Ripper, Aeryn. Jack the Ripper. Did I say that out loud? Never mind, it's not important," he said, scratching his head. "Someone you don't need to know about." _Bad choice of words,_ he thought. She _already_ knew about Scorpius.

They stood there for several moments, saying nothing. He waited in silence to see if the voice would again return. Finally, he opened his eyes, his body finally relaxing. It was gone.

She managed a weak smile. "We'll get some dinner, then we'll ask Zhaan if she can give you anything. Hopefully it will take your mind off of all this." She stoked his face lightly; wishing she could do something more.

He smiled and put his arm around her, wanting to give more reassurance. Her concern was more than adequate; he took comfort from that as he walked with her down the corridor to the dining chamber.

"I just hope Rygel didn't eat all of that stew Chiana made," Aeryn said. "I wanted some."

"I need another bottle of Enkh," he said. "Tastes like skim milk and grape Kool-aid."

"_Commander Crichton, Officer Sun,"_ Pilot's voice came in over their comms_. "Could you please come up to command? Something has happened."_

Crichton closed his eyes. He could practically see it coming. "What's wrong now, Mister Doomsday? Your timing is perfect, as always."

"_Moya and I have picked up a distress signal, Commander. Very faint, less than a quarter solar day from here."_

He paused for a moment, remembering the planet he saw while on the terrace. "Any chanceit's coming from the area of that Jovian planet?"

"_Jovian planet?"_

"The gas giant."

Recognition sparked in Pilot's voice at his human terminology. _"Ah, yes. The signal is quite close to the proximity of that world. To be precise, from behind one of its moons."_

"Then we should avoid it Pilot," Aeryn said. "It could be a Peacekeeper ship."

"_Understood. But Moya is very concerned for this ship, Officer Sun. She is already heading in the direction the signal is coming from."_

"Why?" Crichton said. "She knows we have to avoid detection, right?"

"_She does indeed, Commander. But this distress signal,"_ Pilot paused for a moment, _"it's coming from a leviathan ship."_

He sighed. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"

The lone DRD that had followed Crichton into the hangar watched as he and Aeryn quickly walked towards command. Its eyestalks rose up, as if puzzled.

Some saw ignorance as a blessing.

****

"Yep, that's a leviathan all right." Chiana said, matter-of-factly.

At Pilot's request, the crew gathered in command and watched the scene unfold before them on Moya's main view screen. The fluorescent green hue of the planet filled the screen in front of them. Floating between the farthest moon and the gaseous giant, the outline of a leviathan took shape. Except for its darker color and the presence of a Peacekeeper control collar attached to its front, it resembled Moya in every respect- except that there were no signs of life on board.

"Well, it's definitely a _Peacekeeper _leviathan, Chiana," Aeryn added. "It's a prison transport, just like Moya was. Pilot, does Moya recognize it?"

"_She does, Officer Sun. Moya says it's the Acroyan, a much older biomechanoid. The Peacekeepers have had it in service at least fifty cycles before they ever captured her."_

"I knew there was bad voojoo about this place," D'Argo said. "And that was before this showed up."

Rygel groaned. "How nice. If superstitions don't kill us first, the Peacekeepers will come out and start blasting us, at least our ships are on familiar terms. Although I wouldn't expect them to give us any special treatment."

D'Argo grunted his agreement. "So if there are any Peacekeepers on that ship, then we need to leave now! We should not have stopped here in the first place!"

"D'Argo, chill," Crichton said, trying to calm the Luxan's apprehension. "If there were any Peacekeepers on board, I'm sure they would have sent the 'surrender or die or we'll kick your ass' signal by now."

D'Argo scowled. "Do I need to remind everyone that Scorpius is looking for us?" And we are also short on supplies due to one of us punching out a planet's leader who was letting us buy provisions on his planet, until someone here decided to be chivalrous!" His temper was much shorter than usual. The quest to find his son in a distant slave mind haunted his thoughts constantly, and this journey only took him away from it longer.

"Yeah, and for a change it wasn't you," said Chiana. "Can we forget about that, please?"

"There is no indication that there is anyone else out here, D'Argo," Zhaan said. "Besides, Pilot indicated earlier there was no activity on board and no transmissions being broadcast except for the faint one we intercepted, and that was an encrypted code." She turned to Pilots image. "Isn't that correct, Pilot?"

"_Yes, Zhaan. And it is not on a standard Peacekeeper frequency. Perhaps it was broadcast by a prisoner."_

"Which means there may have been a prison break on board," said D'Argo. "What do you suppose the odds of that are?"

"I seem to remember being pulled aboard a leviathan during a prison break, D'Argo. I wouldn't rule out the possibility."

D'Argo rolled his eyes at Aeryn's response. The irony of the situation was not lost on him. It had been over a cycle since Moya had been liberated. Another band of prisoners could be trying to repeat history, and no one there could blame them.

"Maybe so, kids," said Crichton, "but I don't recall Moya floating lifeless either. Pilot, is there any sign of power?"

The silence grew tense while the crew waited for Pilot to confirm his findings. _"Main engines are off line, Commander. Internal gravity bladders are functioning normally. Climate regulators are operating higher than normal. Life readings are tertiary, at best. Acroyan seems to be trying to compensate but there is no communication between him and his pilot. He keeps drifting in and out of consciousness."_

"Life support?"

"_Still operational. But Acroyan's pilot is not the one regulating it. I am unsure of the power source. I have never seen this energy signature before."_

"Keep trying to establish communications with the ship's pilot," said Aeryn.

Crichton sighed. "I have a bad feeling about this, kids. Do we jet away from here or go over and try to switch the HAL 9000 back on?"

Zhaan looked over at him, visibly confused. "The what?"

"Uh, never mind," Crichton waved his hand dismissively. "That's a bad example, kids. He went insane, killed the whole crew except for Bowman."

Zhaan ignored Crichton's vague human expressions; they were long used to him being incoherent. "If there are prisoners over there, we should try to help them. "After all, they're victims of the Peacekeepers. And furthermore, we could even liberate Acroyan," her finger pointed to the restrictive control collar attached to the leviathan. "Does he deserve to be in such bondage?"

"But if there are Peacekeepers on board, we might get captured! So could Moya, and then we would _all_ be back in bondage," Rygel protested. "I'm not going to chance that."

Chiana frowned. "Well, if I were captured again, I would sure as fek appreciate someone helping me out. Maybe you forgot how it feels, Froggy?"

He grunted. "Certainly not. And _you_ were _never_ their prisoner."

"No, I was going to be mentally cleansed for a hundred cycles by my own people. What would you prefer, your toad-ship?"

They all looked at each other. It was not new situation to them. To help or not to help was always the dilemma. Supplies were needed, allies were always needed, and both were in perpetual short supply and they could use both- providing there was anyone still alive on the _Acroyan_.

Crichton stood up straight, from the console he had been leaning on. "All right, then. If we are going to do this, there is something we need to do first. It's a hunch, but it might help us." He turned to face the clamshell projecting Pilot's image. "Pilot, we will need our comms modified to send and receive encrypted signals. I smell something rotten about that unknown encrypted transmission."

"_I will have several prepared as soon as possible, Commander."_

Zhaan looked at him, perplexed. "Rotten? You can smell something through the vacuum of space?" Every now and then, he still confused the hell out of her.

Aeryn looked at Crichton, puzzled. "What is your hunch?"

"Boy Scouts always need to be prepared" Crichton said, holding up a pair of crossed fingers.

****

Crichton, Aeryn and D'Argo gathered in the transport hangar, checking their weapons and readying the pod to board the _Acroyan_. Zhaan soon appeared, her bags loaded with medicines in the event that anyone still alive on the ship needed a healer's attention.

It was decided that Chiana and Rygel would stay on board the Moya. To no ones surprise, they received no protests from the diminutive Dominar. Rygel's justification was that someone should remain on board to make important diplomatic decisions if a hostage crisis suddenly arose. Chiana was not so agreeable.

"Why can't I go? I'm not going to get in the way!"

"Because, Pip." Crichton said. "If we get ambushed, we don't all want to be over there. And anyway, " he put his hand on her shoulder, "the Peacekeepers don't know much about you, so let's keep it that way."

"We won't be long," Aeryn added. "Besides, you don't need to snurch anything. We'll be doing that."

Crichton nodded, still apprehensive. "We go over, stay no longer than we need to and see if we can salvage anything that we can use."

"I agree," said D'Argo. "But be ready to fight our way out of there if we have to. He turned to the nearest clamshell to face Pilot's image. "Pilot? Have Moya ready to Starburst at the first sign of another Peacekeeper ship."

"_Ka D'Argo, Moya and I will not leave without any of you."_

"Relax, Pilot. We'll be back over quick enough," Crichton said.

"Very quick," D'Argo added.

"Goddess protect us," Zhaan said, reciting a Delvian prayer.

Aeryn said nothing. Most Peacekeepers were not spiritual. Even though she was no longer one of them, old beliefs always died hard, she never prayed. Her protection always took the form of something tangible; that she knew could be relied on. Her fingers lightly brushed along the pulse pistol in the holster strapped to her thigh, and took comfort in that. Looking over at Crichton, who was rubbing his head, she felt her concern shift. Was he hearing the voices again?

She wished that Zhaan's goddess- or any deity for that matter would help him more than anything else.

****

"Good luck, gang," Chiana said.

The transport pod flew gently out of the treblin side of Moya, and quickly closed the expanse between them and the _Acroyan_. Pilot positioned Moya to keep a safe distance between her and the elder leviathan in the event of any sudden change in its position. The exterior hangar doors were open on the hammond side, offering a portentous welcome.

"_Deeper and deeper into the interior, wilderness calls_, _John. Do you feel your heart beating faster?"_ Scorpius' voice called.

Crichton tensed, trying hard not to show his crewmates his current situation. "I have a very bad feeling about this," he muttered.

"Why didn't you say so before?" D'Argo said, still irritated.

"I _did_ say so before. Twice."

Aeryn looked at him, hiding her worry from the others. "Don't argue. We're almost there."

The interior lights in the cavernous docking bay were dimmer than normal, but the hangar doors responded to the transport pod as it approached the landing pad. As the doors opened, spilling bright light onto the ship, they each breathed a sigh of relief. Not a single Peacekeeper in sight.

But there was no one else in sight, either. Even the ship's DRDs were nowhere to be seen. With most of the ship's power off, the hangar was eerily silent as they exited the transport pod.

"Goddess, what is that smell?" Zhaan gasped as she stepped down the transport's ladder.

Upon exiting the transport pod, her nose wrinkled and her eyes began to tear up from the odor. A burning, acrid stench was lingering heavily in the air of the _Acroyan_. No smoke was visible, but the smell remained thick in the hangar.

Crichton, Aeryn and D'Argo spread out, inspecting their surroundings. The sight before them stopped them in their tracks.

The main hangar resembled a battlefield. Spread out before them was a detachment of several Prowlers and a Marauder, each one had been burned and blasted beyond repair. The closest Prowler to them had both wings shot off, and another one down the line was severed completely in half. Engine parts lay shattered and leaking, torn cables hung from the bottoms of several ships and all of them were peppered with large holes in their metal skins. The Marauder lay tilted on its side, its landing gear assembly completely disintegrated. Faint trails of smoke still curled out of some of the ship's gaping holes, a testament to the recent battle. The ceiling up above was blackened from smoke.

"Looks like somebody brought down the lightning and the thunder," Crichton said, his nostrils flaring from the burning stench. "Aeryn, would prisoners have been able to get hold of a weapon that could turn these ships into Swiss cheese?"

Aeryn shook her head, still absorbing the scene before her. "No. They would at least need a pulse cannon to do this, and prison transports don't carry them."

"And besides," she said, surveying the damage on the closest Prowler, "why would they destroy these ships? They could have used them to escape."

"Escape from what?" Crichton asked.

"And just what the hezmana is that?"

They turned to the direction D'Argo was pointing. At the far end of the hangar was a large egg-shaped pod, grayish-white in color. No markings were visible, but it was the only ship that remained undamaged.

Crichton walked up to the pod, taking in the odd design. "Okay. Is it safe to assume this is not standard Peacekeeper issue? I would guess if it was, it would've been holier than my church socks by now, right?"

"I've never seen anything like this," Aeryn said, running her hand along the ship's smooth exterior.

"Neither have I," added Zhaan. "But why is it on board?"

Before anyone could answer, D'Argo quickly turned his head and sniffed the air, his body tensing, shifting his Qualta Blade into pulse rifle mode.

"What is it? What do you smell?" Aeryn asked, raising her own pulse rifle.

"It's burning flesh," said D'Argo, sniffing the air cautiously.

Crichton removed his pistol from the holster. Zhaan held her bags close to her, shuddering from the revelation.

"A lot of it too," he added.

****

On a ledge close to the roof of the hangar, the creature perched, silent and steady like a hawk. It watched the four beings exit the hangar with intense curiosity. It remained blended into the shadows, invisible. Pressing a button on its gauntlet, the heat signatures of the four beings took on greater clarity through its helmet.

One was very large. A Luxan. Excellent. It would be a formidable opponent.

The tall blue-skinned female barely registered. A Delvian. No weapons; no challenge there.

The Sebaceans were another matter. Both the male and female had weapons, and they had the taint of the Peacekeepers about them. _Perfect,_ it thought_. They would be good for the hunt._

The creature tilted its head, noticing the readings for the male Sebacean. His core temperature read much higher then the females. It tapped its helmet slightly. Perhaps there was a slight glitch in the thermal registers.

Pressing several more buttons on its gauntlet, the exterior and interior doors of the docking bay locked silently, trapping the new visitors.

The creature lunged silently through the air, landing gracefully on a ledge beneath where it had sat, and disappeared through a portal into the lower tiers of the ship.

"_Bring down the lighting and the thunder,"_ it said to itself.

****

"Pilot, are you receiving this?" Crichton tapped the button on the encrypted comm.

"_Yes, Commander. The signal has slight distortion in it, but Moya and I can compensate by increasing the modulation."_

"Perfect. Tell the others we're fine. No sign of any Peacekeepers or prisoners. But someone acted out Desert Storm here, all the ships were blasted to kingdom come except for some weird looking pod."

"_I will relay the information, immediately. Please be careful."_

Aeryn smiled slightly. "It looks like your 'hunch' paid off, Crichton. Since the signal we had intercepted was on an irregular channel, something in here must be trying to block communications."

"Yep. And using encryption is overcoming that," he said, touching the gold comm pinned to his vest. It still resembled the normal comms the crew carried except for its interior modifications. "Now all we need to know is who is doing it, and why."

"The better question," D'Argo said quietly, pointing towards the opening of the maintenance bay "is who did this?"

They had followed the scent D'Argo picked up in the main hangar, and followed the Luxan through the access arteries. The scene before them made their jaws drop in horror.

Strewn about the floor, at least a dozen Peacekeepers lay dead, victim of some recent massacre. Many had been shot through the chest by an energy weapon, while others were missing limbs. D'Argo's eyes watered at the scents, now stronger than ever. The weapon used on them generated so much heat that some of the bodies were partially incinerated. Smoke still trailed upwards on several of them.

Looking up, five Peacekeepers hung from the ceiling by their feet, cables twisted tightly around their ankles. Their arms reached lifelessly towards the floor. Crichton shuddered at the sight. They were nude. No clothing, and no flesh. Their bodies had been completely skinned. They were reduced to dark shredded masses of red and purple. Pools of blood clotted on the floor beneath them, and were splattered on the walls and equipment all around the hangar.

Several were missing their heads.

"I don't think I want to know the answer to that, D'Argo." Crichton said.

"Goddess take pity," Zhaan said mournfully. "No one deserves to die like this." She folded her hands in prayer and began reciting prayers for the deceased.

Crichton walked around the carnage, inspecting the decapitated bodies. "This just happened within the day. Aeryn, why would prisoners be this brutal? It doesn't make sense, if they could escape why not just take the transport pods and leave?"

She turned her head and paused. "I don't think they ever did. Take a look."

Crichton and the others walked to the end of the bay where Aeryn now stood. Before them were more bodies. A dozen species at least: A young Sheyang, a Vorcarian, two ravaged and headless corpses of what appeared to be Luxans, a large body with deep red skin they could not identify as well as several Sebaceans. Those remaining were mutilated beyond recognition. All except for a large muscular corpse whose head and spine had also been removed.

Aeryn recognized it immediately. "Crichton, this was a Scarran!"

"Yeah, I recognize it," Crichton said. "What the hell did this to him? They're supposed to be a dozen clips short of bulletproof."

D'Argo reached down to inspect the Scarran's corpse. His fingers ran delicately along the length of the cavity where the spine had been. There was a continuous incision along each side of the spine that sliced smoothly through the ribs. The cuts were clean with no hacking or sawing through the bone.

"This could not have been done with a knife or sword, this was done in one stroke," D'Argo said. "And do you have any idea of the strength needed to tear out the spine and head of a Scarran? It had to be immense. I could never do this."

"But why would they have taken the time to arrange the bodies like this?" Zhaan indicated the layout of the prisoners' bodies. They were laid in perfect symmetry side by side. The weapons they had used, presumably during a revolt, were laid beside each user, perhaps as a small gesture of respect. But why or by whom, no one could even hazard a guess.

"I'm pretty sure Peacekeepers wouldn't have bothered to do this," Crichton said. "Hell, they didn't even do that for their own over there," he indicated to the charred bodies. "So, who did all this?"

"Haaksekah," Aeryn whispered. "The stories must be true."

Crichton looked at her, the realization of what they talked about earlier becoming very clear. "Then we need to get the hell out of here. Is Acroyan's pilot even alive?" He walked over to the hangar's clamshell. "Pilot of Acroyan, are you able to communicate? Please respond."

Nothing.

"Pilot of Acroyan? Are you there?"

No response.

"This is bad. Very bad." Crichton pressed a button on his comm. "Pilot, can you communicate with the Acroyan's pilot? So far we found no one…" He swallowed hard. "It looks like everyone here is dead, some kind of a massacre took place. Have you found any signs of life on board?"

"_Yes. There are now several life forms on the bottom tiers, Commander. They seem to be heading your way."_ Worry sounded in Pilot's voice.

"No need to tell us twice, Pilot. We're out of here." Crichton turned to the others. "C'mon, gang! We need to make like a banana and split, real fast."

D'Argo stood silently by the two headless bodies lying before him. "These must have been Luxans," he said, sadly. "This is no way for a warrior to die."

"They were Illanics, not Luxans," came a deep voice from behind them.

D'Argo hissed and turned instinctively towards the being that emerged from an exhaust vent. Crichton, Aeryn and Zhaan moved quickly to his side, weapons ready.

"Like myself."

He was cloaked in a black, quilted tunic. His heavy brow ridge ended in tenkas emerging from the sides if his head, indicating his heritage. In his hand was a Kalta Sword, weapon of the Illanic warriors.

"And you can forget about leaving," he added. "By now, the demon-ghost has locked the hangar doors and trapped you in here with us."

****

"So, are you three all that's left of the prisoners," Crichton asked. "Did any Peacekeepers survive this little war you had on board?" Crichton referred to the two others who had followed Vaal Targus, the Illanic, out of the exhaust vent.

"I am called Rael."

She was a Vocarian female. The dead Vorcarian male lying on the floor had been her mate. Unlike the ill-tempered blood trackers he and Aeryn had met on Dam-Ba-Da over a cycle ago, this one was cleaner, and seemingly less aggressive. She bore no scars and, except for carrying a pulse rifle, showed no open hostility. He guessed that cycles of Peacekeeper incarceration could break even the strongest spirits.

"And I am Zern. Jhennazim Zern."

She was also female, and a beautiful one at that. She was tall, with deep gray skin and long locks of dark red hair. She wore the equivalent of a bikini with a long green loincloth that stopped at her sandaled feet. She carried no weapon.

"I am Proximosian."

The others only looked at her, puzzled. No one had ever heard of a Proximosian. It was just as well. They probably never heard of a human, either.

After the quick introductions, the prisoners led them single file through the exhaust vent to the main hangar where Moya's transport pod sat, gratefully undamaged.

"We're all that's left," Vaal finally said, scanning the hangar for any signs of life. "When the cell doors on the ship all unlocked, we thought someone had come to liberate us. After we procured our possessions, this bloody melee began and almost all of us were slain as well as the Peacekeepers." His teeth clenched at the memory. "My brethren, they all lay dead back there."

"My mate was one of the first to die," Rael said, no emotion evident in her voice.

Aeryn only frowned. She felt sympathy for them after what they experienced, it was hard not to. No one had asked any of them what crimes they had been imprisoned for- it hardly seemed important. Getting to safety was now the primary concern. After suffering through the charnel house all around them, compassion was not something to be refused, especially if Peacekeepers were responsible.

"Who the frell did all this?" she asked. "How many of them are there, anyway?"

"Only one," said the Proximosian in a high-pitched voice. "There is ghost on board Acroyan, the very one that haunts the Nil."

"A ghost did this?" Crichton eyed the tall woman disbelievingly. "Hey lady, they may scare the crap out of you and walk around in a sheet, but they don't leave trails of corpses that would leave the Manson family trembling, let alone take their heads."

D'Argo nodded in agreement, even if the meaning of Crichton's words were confusing. "Agreed. Something living is responsible for all the hezmat that happened here."

"You believe one being did all this? What goddess could create something so cruel?" Zhaan still recoiled from her surroundings. She could barely accept the horror she had seen, let alone attribute it to one creature.

"Who knows," said Rael. "I caught its scent briefly, but I never sensed anything like it. The species is not familiar to me. Just like you." She looked at Crichton. "What species are you? You're not a Sebacean, the scent is all wrong."

"I'm human. No one's heard of us out here. Which is probably a good thing." He manually checked the controls to the hangar door. There was no response. "Enough chitchat, we need to get going. Pilot! Can you get the hangar doors open?"

Static was audible over Pilot's comm signal. _"I'm sorry, Commander. The doors have been closed and locked. I've been trying to use all available access codes on the Peacekeeper database in Moya's systems, but nothing works. The override controls have been compromised."_

"Keep trying, Pilot." He turned to the others. "So now what?"

Aeryn brightened up. "I'll bet the unknown power source that Pilot detected is coming from the chambers of Acroyan's pilot. He did say it was drifting in and out of consciousness. If we can get there and revive it, I'm sure we can restore some control to the ship, at the very least."

"That way is death," Vaal said. "It's already been tried. The ghost watches carefully and has killed those who try to reach the pilot's den."

"But we have to try," Aeryn said.

"Don't bother."

Moya's crew and the prisoners turned. Standing behind them with pulse rifles raised were several Peacekeepers and their captain.

****

"What the frell do you mean they can't get out?"

"I'm sorry Chiana," Pilot said, trying to maintain patience with the Nebari girl. "The hangar doors on the Acroyan have closed and I am unable to manually re-open them. Until they can restore full power to the ship, or revive Acroyan's pilot, we are unable to help them."

Chiana frowned. "So, would this be a good time to hot-wire Aeryn's Prowler and go out there to shoot the doors open?"

"I don't recommend that, Chiana."

"I knew it was a trap! I warned them not to go," exclaimed Rygel, his throne sled circling around Pilot erratically. "I demand you prepare a transport pod and get me the yotz out of here immediately, Pilot!"

"Rygel, we are not leaving the others. Now please calm down."

"Froggy, take a breather," Chiana said. "We're staying put."

"It's a conspiracy!" Rygel's tantrum continued unabated. "They are out to get me, and we have the means of escape and you are preventing me from saving myself!"

Chiana's lip curled. "Rygel…"

"Back on Hyneria if you refused a Dominar they would flay the skin off your…"

A swift backhand slap from Chiana ended Rygel's tirade and knocked the Hynerian out cold. Peace and quiet settled over Pilot's chamber once again.

"Chiana!" Pilot said, startled. "That was not necessary!"

"Frell it all, Pilot! Hey, his royal slugness needed a nap!"

Pilot gave an exasperated sigh. At least it was quieter.

Chiana turned her attention back to the viewscreen showing the drifting leviathan D'Argo and the others were trapped on.

"Hang on, gang. Please hang on," she said softly.

****

"For the last time Captain Selane, we did not do this to your crew or any of the prisoners. We just arrived on board after intercepting a distress signal from your ship!" Aeryn's face flushed from frustration. The man resisted all attempts at reason.

"I would expect such an excuse from the traitor Aeryn Sun. Yes, I know who you are, Officer Sun. I know who all of you are, the escaped prisoners from the Moya. Is it mere coincidence you are here to liberate these prisoners just as you did yourselves almost two cycles ago? I don't think so."

Crichton faced Selane with his arms crossed. Despite his threats, the others had not surrendered their weapons since it was still not obvious to Selane he did not have the advantage. Both sides faced each other with weapons pointed and ready to fire.

Selane himself was unimpressive if not downright annoying. Everything he said came out more sneering than normal speech. He must have been overcompensating for some inadequacy. He was medium height with a youthful complexion, and closely cropped dark hair. His contempt for everything non-Peacekeeper was evident in his closely set, dark eyes, which never stopped scowling while he talked. The man was pure attitude.

_He must have had a thorn in his ass the size of D'Argo,_ Crichton thought.

Only four of his soldiers from the original detachment were still alive: two males, a female and a female tech. They all stood behind him grim-faced and silent while the captain ranted on.

"We didn't detect any signs of life on board this ship," said Crichton. "So where were you guys hiding anyway?"

"We were not hiding." Selane corrected rather quickly. "Peacekeepers do not hide. But if you feel you must know, there's a containment room beneath the ion backwash chamber lined with vorellium that can block out most ship scans. And now, I believe there's a considerable award for the capture of all of you. Now that this mutiny has been contained, you will surrender your weapons you used to murder my soldiers."

"Murder your soldiers?" said Vaal, barely containing his rage. "Fekik bastard, almost all the prisoners are dead on this ship. My brethren were massacred by your soldiers, and lay dead on the floor of this vessel!"

"As is my mate," Rael added.

Selane smirked. "Oh, I certainly don't recall it happening that way. I see a lot of my people here, too."

"You're as transparent as glass, Selane. And you have no honor, just like all Peacekeepers." Vaal held up his sword. "D'Argo! Stand with me, cousin. We can defeat these cowards."

"It seems to be coming to that," D'Argo said. He lifted up his Qualta Blade.

"All right, cease fire, all of you." Crichton said growing impatient. "Listen asshole, is it not obvious yet we had nothing to do with this? You said the fighting had been going on for almost three solar days. We just got here."

Selane remained expressionless, but still defiant. "Perhaps you're in league with the one that came aboard that strange pod. You only just arrived now to help him. That would explain your presence."

Crichton rolled his eyes. "That's weak, man. I don't think so, and we're not crazy enough. Who or what was on that pod?"

"We were hoping you could tell us that."

"Well, we can't," said Aeryn.

"Actually Captain, I…I think I saw it."

The female tech slowly walked forward. Selane stared at her hard, forcing her into silence. Crichton saw the expression in her eyes. It was fear, and not just from her commanding officer.

"Why didn't say so before?" Selane asked, accusingly.

"Hell, ain't it obvious, Napoleon?" Crichton said. "Now, why don't you back off and give her a chance?"

He looked back at her, gesturing with his hands, managing to get the others to lower their weapons. "It's all right. Let her talk, okay? Let's hear what she knows."

Selane drew in a deep breath. Finally, he quickly nodded to the tech to speak freely.

"Kymera Tovin, sir, Peacekeeper maintenance provost. We were on our way to Ivon-Arda, a lifer's colony, when we intercepted an unidentified craft. We thought it might be Scarran, but it didn't conform to any of their designs. And I was part of the crew that had been examining it."

Crichton nodded. "Go on."

Prisoners and Peacekeepers alike slowly gathered around the frail looking tech as she recounted the retrieval of the unknown ship. Her story unfolded: There had been attempts to open it, but work stopped when unidentified malfunctions with the internal controls of the leviathan ship began occurring. Contact was lost with the ship's pilot. The prisoner's cells all unlocked without explanation. There was brief fighting between the Peacekeepers and their newly freed prisoners. But violent deaths of both Peacekeepers and prisoners quickly followed afterwards. The pieces began to fall into place.

"Only a few Peacekeepers and prisoners died from the breakout," Kymera said. "The rest were killed by him."

"Who is he?" Crichton suspected her next answer, but waited to hear her say it.

Kymera swallowed hard before answering. "Haaksekah."

"Officer Tovin, you should know better than to believe stories that are meant to frighten children," said Selane, looking amused. "Besides, no one has seen any other being on this ship except for these newcomers." Selane gave Crichton and the others an accusing glance.

"But I saw it sir. Only a glimpse, but I saw it."

"What did you see?" Crichton asked.

Kymera looked at Crichton, pausing, unsure how to word her description. "It was huge, there was nothing there when I looked, just a distortion in the air."

"But, it's eyes…" She paused a moment. "I saw its eyes flash for a moment. That's how I knew how big it was. I saw it after it cut off Markar's head. He never had a chance. After it happened, I just ran as fast as I could."

Her voice trailed off. A tear fell from her eye. Crichton reached out to gently put his hand on her shoulder, but hesitated. Except for her red hair and height, she reminded him of Gilina, when she was still alive. The friend she mentioned must have been among the first to die after the prisoners escaped.

Aeryn stepped forward to the tech. "Why were the bodies of the prisoners laid out in reverence? If the Peacekeepers didn't do it, why would the Haaksekah?"

Kymera lowered her head, unable to answer.

Crichton turned, and saw the tall Proximosian who had remained silent the whole time walk forward.

"As I had said before, it is a ghost. Who knows why they do what they do?"

****

The creature watched from above. They had all gathered in one place: the new visitors, the remaining prisoners and the surviving Peacekeepers.

The creature pressed a button on its gauntlet. Swirls of blues and greens surrounded the figures, registering cooler temperatures. Except for a few, the figures that filled the viewscreen of his helmet were shades of red, orange and yellow from their body heat.

The creature observed the male Sebacean visitor intriguingly. The thermal registers in its helmet were functioning normally, yet the man's core temperature was still higher than all the other Sebaceans. There was a familiarity to the readings. Something from another hunt many cycles before.

It raised its head. Now it remembered.

Not a Sebacean. Its body temperature is too high.

Human.

It lifted its arm, two blades shot out of its gauntlet. Time to hunt.

****

"So, we have a truce then?"

"Only for now," grumbled Selane, more than annoyed that Crichton seemed to be the one commanding the situation, on his own ship, no less.

"It would seem the only way to get off this ship is to revive Acroyan's pilot, so I would suggest we try to find a way to reach him," Zhaan said.

"We already tried that Delvian," said Pykis, the tall male Peacekeeper standing behind Captain Selane. "The Haaksekah has killed everyone who tried to get to the pilot's chamber. A lot of my mates are laying dead up there."

"There are alternate routes through the vents, we can try that way," said Aeryn. You have reinforcements now. So if we stay here, that thing could attack again."

"It will attack again anyway," said Selane. "Plus, we're dangerously low on ammunition, Officer Sun. We used all our grenades, and the pulse rifles you see here are only half-loaded. Do you really think that will be enough, after what has happened here?" He made no attempt to hide his sarcasm.

"Then we make some additional weapons," Aeryn said.

"From what, food cubes? Harsh language?" Gemmin, the female Peacekeeper, said angrily. "Everything on the ship has been blown to crank."

"Wait a sec," Crichton interjected. "Do those Prowlers still have any fuel in them? If there are any glass bottles around, we can make some Molotov Cocktails."

Selane looked at him, baffled. "What's a Mollo- Toff?"

"We just fill a glass bottle with fuel, put a cloth fuse in the mouth, light it and it makes a crude bomb. If we encounter that thing on our way to visit Pilot, we can nail him with a couple of those."

"What?" Selane snorted. "Hardly sounds worth the effort. It's a primitive weapon at best."

"Hey, I said it was a _crude_ bomb. But it's still a bomb, okay?" He was quickly losing patience with the captain. The guy could give Crais some serious lessons in arrogance.

"_Good thinking, John. Even the simplest things are not always obvious to others, even a Peacekeeper captain, insecure as this one is."_

Crichton frowned, not wanting the others to know of Scorpius' presence in his head. The voice would not be giving him a break today.

"There is still some fuel in one of the Prowlers, John," Aeryn said. "And there are some empty Fellip Nectar bottles around too."

Crichton slowly nodded his head. "Perfect. Let's make some so this lynch mob of ours can get going."

****

The procession of Peacekeepers, prisoners and Moya's crewmembers moved quickly and quietly through the dimly lit corridor of _Acroyan's_ upper tier. Only the muffled sounds of breathing could be heard.

Making the Molotovs had been an easy task, after Crichton gave a quick explanation of what to do. Aeryn found several empty bottles with a slight copper color to them, slightly smaller than a wine bottle. Pykis and Doban, the other surviving Peacekeeper under Selane's command, tore some scraps of cloth off the bodies of the dead prisoners to make fuses.

Aeryn remarked that the fuel would burn very hot once it ignited, making Crichton hesitant to fill the bottles up all the way, as it might be fatal to anyone using them. Gasoline may have been effective, but Prowler fuel was another matter entirely.

With that task completed, it was decided to attempt to reach the pilot's den through a ventilation duct on the far side of the tier. Molotovs were distributed to Pykis, Gemmin, Vaal and Aeryn. Crichton had no arguments with the distribution of the bombs to whoever was qualified to use them, but he had a problem with the positions taken by the members of the unit that formed to reach the pilot's den. He balked when Selane insisted Aeryn take the point at the front of the line, and even more bothered when she complied with no argument. D'Argo agreed to cover her from behind, while the remaining Peacekeepers kept Zhaan, the two female prisoners and the tech between them with Vaal, Selane and himself bringing up the rear.

At each turn in the darkened corridors, he glanced towards Selane, who never seemed to quit staring at him.

"If you've got something to say, Selane, then say it. I'm getting seriously tired of the attitude."

"Scorpius has wanted beacons all over the Uncharted Territories for you, Crichton," he responded, tauntingly. You must be quite valuable to him. Although for the life of me, I can't imagine why."

"Yeah, I can believe that. You can't imagine much. Can you?"

Selane chuckled for the first time since they encountered him. "You'll have to do better than that to get a rise out of me."

"Your girlfriends have that problem?" Maybe that was his reason for the overcompensating.

He did not respond. His brow wrinkled into another scowl.

He could still feel the captain's eyes burning into his back. "If you keep doing that, Mussolini, they may freeze in that position. Then you'll scare all the girls away."

"Have your fun, Crichton. But Scorpius will reward generously whoever turns you in to him. I myself wouldn't mind a promotion, or a better assignment. Capturing you would be a considerable advancement for me." Selane pointed a gloved finger at him. "Your time is limited, so I would advise you to watch your back."

"Hell, I thought you were already doing that, Selane."

The scraping sound of metal diverted their attention. Aeryn was pushing open an access door with the help of Pykis.

He had not only been bothered by Aeryn's willingness to take the point, but by how easy she slipped back into the role she had performed many times as a Peacekeepers. Her pulse rifle extended forward, her unspoken communication with the other soldiers as they checked and cleared each intersection and the precision with which it was done.

Crichton frowned, wondering if she would ever be free of Peacekeeper influences. Just when it seemed she moved a step forward, circumstances made her go two steps back.

They stopped at a large triangular vent that was flush with the gold walls of the corridor. Under the dim red lights, it was barely visible. Aeryn began to grope around the metal grid with her fingers to secure a handhold. "We open this, we can climb up to the top of Pilot's chamber, and see what his situation is."

"Her situation. It's a female," corrected Gemmin.

Aeryn nodded. "I'll go up and have a look. We can get a bird's eye view from the other end of this vent."

"Stay in constant contact, Aeryn," Crichton warned. He hated the idea of her separating from him and the others, but said nothing. She would be irritated at the notion he had that she needed looking after. He knew she felt she was looking after him a lot more.

"I'll go too, and cover her back," Gemmin said. "With your permission sir," she added, looking to Selane for approval.

"Proceed, Officer Gemmin."

Aeryn and Gemmin climbed up into the narrow shaft while the others formed a small perimeter around the vent's opening. There were three long corridors that intersected where they all stood, each one a potential avenue of attack from an unseen enemy. Haaksekah always came without warning, it had been said.

****

Crichton pressed the button on his comm. "How's it look in there, Aeryn?"

Her legs tensed with each step as she and Gemmin made their way up the steep shaft to the pilot's chamber. The walls of the shaft were narrow. It was pitch black in the duct. The light from the top of her pulse rifle was their only source to see where they were going.

The last time she traveled through these shafts was when their pilot disconnected himself from Moya in a fit of anger and despair at the knowledge of a data chip that showed Aeryn as part of a squad executing Moya's first pilot. She and Crichton made their way through the vents around the armed DRDs with Crichton to try and reconcile with him. The uneasiness of the experience still remained in her memory.

Now she was walking the same path again on a different leviathan, repeating the process with Acroyan's pilot. Only the reasons for this system shutdown were totally unknown. Whoever did the executing on this ship had not been biased towards prisoners only.

"It's really warm up here John," she said. Her breathing started to come in hard gasps. The temperature should not have been as high as it was for the ducts connecting the pilot's chamber. Gemmin's breathing became ragged as well. High temperatures were anathema to Sebaceans.

"We're almost there, I can see the light from the chamber now."

"Make it quick, Aeryn. You don't want to be in that heat too long." He tried hard to hide his concern. He hated to give the Peacekeeper captain another piece of information to use to his advantage.

They came to a stop before a metal grate, breathing heavily. A blue light bathed their faces from the pilot's chamber. Looking down, the large form of Acroyan's pilot sat, immobile. Her head was slumped down against her chest, and her four arms were folded up towards its body. Only a gentle swaying of the body indicated any sign of life. DRDs were present in the chamber, but were all switched off, like in the rest of the ship.

Gemmin raised her arm, pointing towards the pilot. "Officer Sun, what is that?"

Aeryn's gaze fell upon the pilot's command console. Immediately to the left of the sleeping pilot, a box-shaped object was attached. Silver in color with black trim on its edges, several cables came out of the rounded end and into the console. A sequence of red lights on the top flashed every few microts in a random pattern.

"Crichton, we see the pilot," she said quietly. "She's unconscious, she might be drugged. Also, there's some kind of device attached to the control console. I don't recognize it. We're going down for a better look."

"Aeryn, that's not a good idea. You said the temperature was higher than normal."

She swung the grate open. "Yes, but I think that device is what's causing the irregularity in Acroyan's systems." If remove it, I could restore the ships functions back to normal, temperature included."

"How are you going to do that?" Gemmin asked, visibly confused. "The pilot controls all the ship's functions. How could you possibly know how to do what it does? Those controls aren't like a frelling Prowlers."

"Just trust me on this, Gemmin," Aeryn insisted. She did not care to explain how she had traces of pilot DNA in her body to the Peacekeeper, nor did she want to. She was already irreversibly contaminated to the Peacekeepers; she did not want to add fuel to the fire, as Crichton would say.

"I'm going to climb down, you wait here and-"

She froze. Her gaze fixed on Gemmin. Three small dots of red light had appeared on her chest in a triangular pattern.

Gemmin looked down at the lights, which began to move slowly over her heart. "What the frell is that supposed to be?"

Realization struck Aeryn, and she pulled Gemmin away from the vents opening just as a bolt of yellow light shot through, missing her heart but striking her left shoulder full force. Gemmin screamed in agony.

"Shots!" D'Argo looked up the ventilation duct towards the sound he just heard. "And that was definitely a scream."

Panic flashed in Crichton. "Aeryn! Gemmin! Get the hell out of there, now!"

The sound of an energy blast repeated itself over the comm's transmission. The clanging of boots echoed through the narrow shaft as they rushed down the duct in a hurry to escape. Aeryn's voice, bordering on desperate, was fractured through the comm's transmission.

"Crichton… D'Argo… under attack… Gemm… hit… out… now."

"C'mon Aeryn, Hurry!" Crichton looked up the shaft; cursing the distance it took her and the Peacekeeper to get back safely. The others raised their weapons, anticipating an attack from any direction.

"John! The lights! What…"

Crichton looked up, responding to Zhaan's cry. Red emergency lights had dimly lit part of the corridor. Without warning, the main lights came on, temporarily blinding everyone. As their eyes adjusted, they reeled in shock once again. The gold walls of Acroyan's corridor were splattered all along its walls with blood. D'Argo, Vaal, Selane and the other Peacekeepers raised their weapons down the three intersecting corridors, scanning anxiously for an intruder.

There was nothing in sight.

"John! Gemmin's been shot." Crichton turned to Aeryn's voice. She came out the duct holding up Gemmin, who had a massive wound below her shoulder. He breathed a sigh of relief. Aeryn, though frantic and overheated, was unharmed.

"Zhaan, take a look at this, it's pretty bad," Crichton said as he gently lowered the female Peacekeeper to the floor. "What the hell hit her, Aeryn?"

Aeryn was still breathing heavily. "I don't know, but I think it followed us down the duct." You and your men need to stay alert, Captain Selane."

"I think _you_ need to be more alert, woman," Selane snapped. "How did this happen to one of my soldiers? You could have easily done that to her. I'm tired of this ruse; we will take the pilot's frelling chamber now and see to having the rest of you contained."

Jhennazim gasped. "Captain, behind you!"

"Then I will see to it that-"

The tall alien woman pushed Selane out of the way just in time. In a blur, an object shot past the captain and knocked the Peacekeeper named Doban against the wall. The others turned in surprise. A snare net had pinned him against the bulkhead and was constricting instantly, crushing him under its mesh.

"Open fire!" Selane screamed.

Pulse rifles and pistols opened fire in every direction hoping to hit whatever had snared Doban. D'Argo and Vaal fired their pulse rifles in the direction the net had come from. Crichton, Aeryn and Rael fired down one corridor. Selane, Pykis and Kymera fired down the other. Gemmin, barely conscious, lay helplessly against the wall.

Zhaan and the Proximosian struggled in vain to free Doban from the net. The thick clamps that held the net in place would not budge. The net constricted even further and became so tight that Zhaan heard him asphyxiating.

An explosion rocked the whole tier as a bright yellow burst from an energy weapon exploded against the wall, throwing Zhaan and Jhennazim to the floor. Both Peacekeepers and prisoners ducked as a second and third burst streaked past, shattering the floor. Whatever the weapon was, its power signature was incredible.

Zhaan and Jhennazim returned to pulling at the snare net, desperate to free the dying Peacekeeper. A final gurgling sound and the slackening of his limbs told them they were too late.

"We cannot save him, Zhaan," Jhennazim said mournfully.

Zhaan whispered a prayer for the unfortunate Peacekeeper. During their short period of time working together, he had never even spoke. Zhaan, oblivious to the battle around her, gently closed his eyes, his expression still frozen with fear.

"Retreat and regroup!" Aeryn shouted. "We're too vulnerable out here!"

"Go!" D'Argo roared, barely dodging another blast. "I'll get the girl. Take the rear access artery, I'll be right behind you."

Rael sniffed the air and cast her eyes to the rafters above the corridor. "Look! Up there."

D'Argo, Aeryn, Crichton and Selane looked just in time to see a figure, transparent but with a manlike shape jumping to the floor. It was big, whatever it was. Its outline appeared as a distortion in the air. Two flashes of yellow indicated a set of eyes where the head would be.

D'Argo fired his pulse rifle towards the rippling mass, using the heated shots to ignite the cloth fuse on the Molotov he held in his other hand. With a roar, he threw the bomb towards the creature and ran, taking Gemmin with him.

There was a bright flash and a tremendous burst of heat as the corridor lit up like an exploding star. Aeryn, Selane, Pykis and Kymera all gasped from the sudden wave of heat that struck at their backs as they ran down the corridor. Gemmin cried out in pain. Even with D'Argo shielding half her body carrying her over his shoulder, the heat ravaged her already-burning wound.

They ran nonstop through the corridors for what seemed like half an arn. They passed empty cells, crew's quarters and several dead bodies they hurriedly stepped over. There was zero time to grieve for the dead.

They finally came to a stop at a room laid out for medical treatment. Fortunately, it had been untouched by the events on the _Acroyan_ for the past few days. Aeryn D'Argo and Vaal quickly scanned the room from the doorway, looking for any signs of the creature's presence. No other entrance to the room was visible from where they stood.

"D'Argo, take Gemmin in there and put her on the table," said Aeryn. "She doesn't have much time, Zhaan needs to look after her wound."

She turned to Crichton as Vaal and D'Argo entered with Gemmin, gently placing her on the nearest table. Her breathing was becoming shallow. "John, that thing has drugged the pilot and has remote control of the ship's functions. We aren't getting out of here until we get control of ship's functions back."

Crichton shook his head in disgust. "So until then, it can basically do to us on this ship whatever it wants. That's just great, we're easy pickings for the space ghost."

He looked up. "Aeryn, I…Hey!"

An explosion shook the room as a bolt of yellow light shot between Crichton and Aeryn, shattering the floor and throwing Crichton and the others back through the doorway where they had stood. Aeryn was thrown to the ground, dazed from the light's brilliance. D'Argo and Vaal, both stunned from the energy burst, struggled to regain their balance.

With a push, Aeryn forced herself upright, pulse rifle aiming in the direction of the blast. As her eyes adjusted, she could see the door had swung shut, trapping her, D'Argo, Vaal and Gemmin in the room. The pounding of fists was audible on the other side as the others tried to force open the door.

"D'Argo! Vaal! The creature is in here! Protect Gemmin and get-"

She never completed the sentence. A spear shot across the room like a bolt of lightning and pierced her right thigh. Aeryn hit the floor again, crying out in pain. The spear was sectioned, with both ends bladed, a thick long cylinder served as the center and handle. The blade in her leg had a barbed tip; her futile attempt to remove it only caused her more agony.

Looking up through her tears, she saw a large figure drop from the ceiling and strike D'Argo from behind, sending him sprawling. Vaal, attempting to get back on his feet, slowly drew his blade to try and face the creature. Gemmin, barely conscious, lay helpless on the table.

The creature was now visible. It was a giant, powerfully built, at least as tall as D'Argo. Its bare gray limbs were covered with a netlike material. The head was encased in a large metallic helmet with thick black strands coming out of its head, not unlike D'Argo's tentacles. Several skulls hung around its waist, all Sebacean. It wore large metal gauntlets on both arms. One of them had two protruding blades that were dripping black ochre from their tips. Luxan blood. The thing had cut D'Argo deeply from behind.

The creature walked to the center of the room, examining the survivors. Perched on its left shoulder was a squat metal barrel that moved and pivoted in the same direction its head moved. _Energy weapon,_ Aeryn thought to herself, Powerful enough to destroy the Prowlers, incinerate the ship's crew and incinerate just about everything else.

It turned its head towards her, the weapon following its gaze. Three points of red light formed in a triangle on Aeryn's face, moving to the middle of her forehead.

She froze. Her eyes opened wide and locked on the creature before her. Her body went numb. She no longer felt the pain in her leg.

All sounds disappeared. The only noise in her ears was the rapid beating of her heart…

_To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

Crichton vs. PREDATOR: In the Belly of the Beast (Pt. 2)

By: Spacelord

Rating: T (Profanity and violence).

Summary: REPOST. With the temperature increasing to near fatal levels for Aeryn and the others, Crichton travels into the bowels of the leviathan ship to face the alien hunter. Though the odds are stacked against him, he has a weapon the creature is unaware of, and his name is Scorpy.

Spoilers: Various, through the first two seasons, but before LG&M.

Disclaimers: See Part 1 for details.

"_In ancient times skillful warriors first made themselves invincible, and then watched for vulnerability in their opponents." _- Sun Tzu,_ The Art of War_

****

"Aeryn! Aeryn! D'Argo! Somebody get this goddamned door open!" Crichton slammed his body against the locked door to the medical lab, frantic to reach the others behind it.

"Frelling creature thought of everything," said Pykis, joining Crichton in unison to breach the door. "He must've manually locked it and is controlling the codes."

"May as well forget them Crichton, the creature is in there with them," Selane said coldly. "They're already dead."

"The hell you say!" he roared back. "One of your own is in there, Selane. Are you going to let her die, too?"

"You saw her wound, she is as good as dead."

"Pilot!" Crichton shouted into his comm. "Can you get a fix on our position?"

"_Yes, Commander. You are on the top tier in front of the officers medical bay."_

"Can you manually access the door code? We have to get in now, Aeryn and D'Argo are trapped!" Crichton slammed his body against the door again. It would not budge.

"_We're working on it, Commander, with all possible haste."_

"_John?"_ Chiana's voice came in over the comm. _"What's happening to them?"_

"No time to explain, Pip." He slammed against the door again. He told himself not to panic, but the feeling grew stronger inside. With each microt, any chances of saving them slipped away.

****

Aeryn lay on her side, the blood from her leg wound pooling underneath her. Her gaze remained locked on the creature standing in front of her. Its weapon was targeting her and preparing to fire.

She could accept it. She never believed she would live a long life- or even want to. Life on the run with Crichton and the others made death a guarantee. But he had saved her life the day Captain Crais deemed her irreversibly contaminated. Every day of living after that was a gift she had received from him. She had no regrets except that she could not say goodbye. _Such is fate,_ she thought.

"Get it over with," her voice was barely a whisper.

"_Need to be more alert, woman…"_

She blinked, startled. It was using Selane's voice.

Closing her eyes, she waited for the killing shot.

"Demon! You killed my brethren! Now, I will kill you!"

Vaal came up from behind with his sword, striking a glancing blow to the creature as it turned at the sound of his voice. It faced the enraged Illanic and expertly blocked and countered the blows from Vanth's Kalta Sword with the blades on its gauntlet.

Unable to move, Aeryn could only watch and wait for the outcome of the battle. Her pulse rifle lay out of her reach, and the Molotov she carried had been knocked loose from her belt, lying near D'Argo where he fell when the creature struck him down.

The Molotov_._

Hope seized her again, but it would need assistance.

"D'Argo…D'Argo, can you hear me," She said faintly. "I need your help."

The injured Luxan stirred, oblivious to the fight raging before him. Slowly lifting his head, his gaze met Aeryns.

"D'Argo, the bomb…Roll it towards me."

His eyes fell on the Molotov, lying within arms reach of him.

Despite his considerable skill with the sword, the Illanic was beginning to lose ground to the creature. Though his tenacity was unyielding, the creature parried each blow and inflicted far worse damage to him with its blades. Vaal's black tunic was shredded with open gashes on his chest and arms. Dark blood spilled from him.

D'Argo slowly extended his arm. His hand contacted the Molotov. With a push, he rolled it towards Aeryn.

Vaal moaned in agony. The creature's blades severed one of his chin tenkas, causing him immense pain. Blood shock began to set in. His onslaught now became a struggle to counter the creature's blows. It's strength and stamina were superior to his.

The Molotov rolled right to Aeryn's extended hand. Ignoring her discomfort, she struggled to light the cloth fuse to the bomb.

There was a loud _thud_ as the creature rammed its blades upward into Vaal's chest, lifting him off the ground. Slowly his limbs went limp; his sword fell from his hand. The Illanic warrior, veteran of the battle of Skander that defeated the Scorvians, was dead. The creature easily flung his lifeless corpse to the side. For a moment, it stood there looking at his corpse, reflecting on the battle.

The creature turned to D'Argo, looking over the barely conscious Luxan. The combination of the shock from the energy blast and the attack from behind had weakened him more than expected. The creature stepped forward, to look over its handiwork, until a clicking noise diverted its attention.

Aeryn desperately tried to light the fuse to the Molotov, but the igniter she had was not working. Hope turned into panic as the creature turned its head to the noise of her igniter and it began to approach her once again.

"Haaksekah…"

A bolt of light from a pulse pistol raked the creature's arm, causing it to stumble. Turning around, it faced the source of the attack. Officer Gemmin had managed to prop herself up on one elbow and squeezed off a shot from her pulse pistol.

"Officer Sun, you have to stop it! Hurry before-"

Aeryn's igniter sparked to life, as the blast from the creature's shoulder weapon struck Gemmin in the head, silencing her forever. She collapsed lifeless back onto the table.

Flames licked the cloth fuse of the Molotov as it caught fire. Instinctively, Aeryn threw the bomb as the creature turned. There was the shattering of glass, the splattering of liquid, then nothing. Her aim had been true, she struck it square in the chest, but the fuse fell out of the bottle as she hurled it. The creature raised its arms and looked down at itself as the liquid streamed harmlessly down its torso. She could feel her heart sink.

"_We've done it, Commander! We have accessed the medical bay!"_

The door swung open hard with the added momentum of Crichton and Pykis' weight against it. The creature again reacted mechanically to the intruders, turning with its weapon, ready to fire.

But Crichton spotted it first and fired. He only got off one shot, but it was enough. The bolt from the pulse pistol ignited the fuel drenched all over the creature. There was a burst of bright light and a horrific scream as it lit up like a funeral pyre.

Aeryn gasped as the burst of heat from the Molotov's fuel seared over her, and she fainted. Pykis, Selane and Kymera also buckled from the sudden wave of heat. The creature used the moment of chaos to flee. Running past Crichton, knocking him over, it fled down the corridor unchallenged by Zhaan and Jhennazim. Only Rael was able to fire off a few shots as the creature escaped, its body a fireball on two legs.

****

"Oh Jesus. Zhaan, is she still alive?"

Crichton crouched down beside Zhaan, looking over Aeryn's unconscious form. His mind raced, hopeful for an outcome, but afraid of what it might be. The spear impaled in her thigh and the blood she had lost only exacerbated the situation.

"Baby, don't die."

Zhaan finally looked up. "She's alive, John. But she has lost a lot of blood. The spear has ruptured an artery. We have to remove it, somehow."

"That's not going to be easy, Zhaan. Look at the tip. It's going to tear the flesh coming out as well."

Zhaan reached into her medical bag; producing a dark blue bundle she unrolled containing her medicines. "Some of the instruments in this sick bay here can minimize the damage. But we have to work quick." She scanned the room quickly. "Grab some tourniquets from the operating tray over there."

"We need to leave now," Selane said, moisture beginning to cling to his face. "If that creature's still alive, it may come back."

"No!" Crichton said forcefully. "Aeryn and D'Argo have a better chance of surviving here where they can be treated. If we move them now, they could die."

"That's not my problem, considering you're all wanted fugitives. I've lost two more of my crew since you arrived, I'd prefer to stay alive."

Crichton did not bother to look at him. "Go then, see what your chances are by yourself."

"With all due respect sir, Crichton is right." Pykis said. "If we split up now, we'll all die. You've seen what the creature did to the others."

Selane's lip curled, he was not amused- or used to- a subordinate agreeing with the enemy. Crichton looked up from his work to glance at the tall Peacekeeper, gratitude etched in his face. It was good to meet a Peacekeeper with some common sense.

Selane, Pykis, Kymera and Rael checked the room for any other entrances while Jhennazim helped D'Argo to stand up. Two deep gashes ran down his back from the creature's assault. Black blood stained his clothes.

"Blood… must… run clear…" He said weakly.

"I know," Jhennazim said, inspecting the wounds. "The wound is not toxic yet. I can heal you."

D'Argo pointed towards his wounded comrade. "No. Help… Aeryn first."

****

"Will she live Commander?" Pilot asked apprehensively. He was aware of Crichton's feelings for Aeryn, but it never diluted his own concern.

"_We'll do everything we can, Pilot. You know we will. Have you had any luck on the docking bay doors?"_

"I'm sorry. Moya and I have run every access code in her database. We have had no success. The only thing we could suggest, if possible, is reviving Acroyan's pilot."

"_Already way ahead of you on that one, Pilot."_

"Crichton? How is D'Argo, is he all right?" Chiana had been pacing Pilot's chambers non-stop, worried sick for him, her mind playing out the worst possible drama with each thought.

"_I'm all right Chiana,"_ D'Argo replied_. "I'm being taken care of. We're already in a medical bay."_

"Crichton! You have to hurry back and get us out of here! Get me out of here! Chiana is going mad, she hit me because-"

The sound of a loud _smack_ was heard over the comm signal.

"_Was that Rygel?"_ Crichton asked.

"Was being the operative word," Pilot said. "Please stay in touch, Commander. Moya and I will do everything we can to help all of you."

The comm went silent. Pilot sighed deeply, keeping his thoughts to himself. Chiana continued pacing the chamber restlessly, now and then stepping over Rygel's unconscious form. She could not reach them or help them. All she could do was hope for the best, and that was never an acceptable alternative to her.

"Stupid, overbearing, immature _dredgenauts_," she said quietly.

Pilot gently cupped his large clawed hand over hers, hoping to give her any comfort he could. She looked up sadly into his eyes. They had to sit this one out. It was days like this she hated being the one who stayed behind.

****

_Don't die._

Removing the spear's barbed tip from Aeryn's leg proved to be difficult. The gash was large, and the serrated blade had sheared through half of her slender thigh. Zhaan carefully cut the serrated edges with a pair of surgical shears and removed the barbed sections. This enabled it to be pulled out bit by bit without tearing delicate tissue any further.

_Don't die, Aeryn._

With that task accomplished, the bleeding had to be stopped. There was considerable hemorrhaging, and with the spear removed, the bleeding had worsened. Aeryn remained unconscious, her breathing becoming shallow.

"Zhaan?" Crichton looked at the Delvian healer and priest for a sign of hope.

"I don't know, John," Zhaan said. "She has lost so much blood. Perhaps if there was a Diagnosan here…" Her voice trailed off. Despite her skills, she was unable to stop the bleeding. Her hands were slicked with red. As she worked, she quietly began to recite prayers if the end suddenly came. John lowered his head.

_Please don't die on me._

"_Oh, do not mourn so, John, she knew the risks as a Peacekeeper. I'm sure she would appreciate your caring for her as you do. Still, she makes a good-looking corpse, doesn't she?"_

Scorpius again. His face grimaced. He was reaching the end of Scorpius and his taunting.

_Die, you piece of shit._

It chuckled. _"Unlikely."_

A hand gently touched his shoulder. Looking up, Jhennazim was standing over him. She began to lower her other hand down to Aeryn's wound.

"Please. Allow me."

Zhaan, surprised, slowly backed away, as did John to allow the Proximosian to kneel down beside Aeryn. She placed both hands over the wound, lightly touching the surface of her skin.

There was a soft crackling noise heard that slowly grew in its intensity. Crichton was reminded of the sound of static electricity. The description was not far off. Blue sparks became visible around the tips of the woman 's fingers. Jhennazim tensed, her back arched, her face began visibly straining from the release of energy she was administering.

They watched in amazement as the gaping wound on Aeryn's thigh began to shrink, torn tissue and blood vessels began to repair themselves. Her blood, which had run in rivulets down her leg, began to draw itself back into her body. The others slowly gathered around, watching the scene unfold before their eyes, scarcely believing what they saw.

After what seemed an arn, Jhennazim collapsed, weakened from the energy she expended during the healing process. Crichton, Zhaan and the others looked at Aeryn's leg where the wound had once been. No trace of it was visible. Only the torn hole on her pants and some dried blood crusted on the leather remained as evidence.

Aeryn's eyelids fluttered, then slowly opened. She looked straight up at Crichton's smiling face. She had remembered an attack, a spear piercing her, a creature looking down at her, fire and then darkness.

"Welcome back," he said quietly.

She blinked her eyes several times. "Does this mean I'm not dead?"

"You were very lucky, Aeryn," Zhaan said, stroking her long dark hair. "Jhennazim possesses a unique gift, she healed your wound. You might not have made it otherwise."

"I'm glad to have helped your friend," said Jhennazim, her voice now hoarse. "Unfortunately, I can do nothing about the temperature increase in the ship."

Crichton looked up at the Peacekeepers standing around him and Aeryn. Breathing came to them in ragged gasps. They were all beginning to perspire slightly- their bodies unable to handle the temperature increase.

****

After descending more than a dozen tiers, the creature finally came to rest in one of the lower maintenance levels. Choosing an empty room used for equipment repairs, it sat its sore body down on a stool beside a table laden with tools. A trembling hand pressed a sequence of buttons on its gauntlet, checking its cloaking device. Sparks flew from the gauntlet, followed by thin trails of smoke. Looking towards the wall into a smudged mirror hanging over the table, it accessed its condition.

Third degree burns covered its front. It may as well have been cooked over a fire.

It had been wounded on hunts before, but never this badly. The pale gray skin on its torso, upper legs and upper arms were severely burnt. It was falling off in white flakes and leaving a mottled texture that was raw and sensitive to the touch. Much of the netlike mesh that had covered its limbs had all but burned away, and partially stuck to its skin in places. Waves of searing pain washed over the creature like currents of water.

Detaching a silver oval-shaped box off its right thigh, it placed it on the table where the top automatically slid open, revealing some first aid tools- a syringe with a pistol grip, a thick hemostat-like instrument, scalpels and a tripod assembly that completed the top section.

The creature pulled out a gold metallic container with a silver nozzle and handle on its top. Several stone colored vials lined the bottom half of the case. Popping off the lid of a coral-colored vial, it poured the contents into an opening beside the nozzle on top of the gold container. It reached for the small tripod and- with a quick flip- unfolded completely with a bowl and a small flame flickering underneath it. Grabbing a handful of silicon balls that lay in a box on the tool bench, it placed several in the tripod's bowl, and poured a fluorescent liquid over them from a black vial in its kit.

While the solution cooked, the creature removed the syringe, pulled its plunger back, and stuck the needle into its midsection. A blue coolness slowly settled over its body, anesthetic for what came next.

Carefully pouring the glowing mixture from the bowl into the gold container, it closed the valve and shook the chemicals, mixing them together. The salve would repair the severe burns. The silicon substance would harden after application, but the momentary reaction of spraying it on would not be painless.

Extending its limb the creature depressed the trigger on the valve; a green mist coated its upper arm. Instantly, the sensation of a million white-hot blades reacting against burnt flesh shot through its body.

The creature threw back its head, screaming.

****

Selane looked up, startled. "What was _that_?"

A faint sound reverberated through the corridors of the _Acroyan_, resembling a deep-throated moan.

"I would say that psycho-killer is still alive and nursing its wounds," Crichton said. "That also means whatever it is ain't a ghost. We wounded it, so it can die, too."

"Even so John, we still have to keep moving," said Zhaan, looking up briefly from her work on D'Argo's injuries. "I sense the temperature is still going up, and Aeryn and our Peacekeeper allies are in danger of heat delirium if we don't reach cooler temperatures."

Selane snorted. "Figured that out all by yourself Delvian? That had already occurred to us." His sarcasm never ended.

"If the creature is repairing its wounds as we speak, then this is the safest opportunity to leave sir," added Pykis. "We have already lost too many people." He looked over Gemmin's still form, trying his best to hide his grief. They had been lovers. Even though Peacekeeper policy forbade relationships, he had grown fond of her. Now, she was gone.

"Agreed. We need to leave." The captain was finally too tired to argue.

"Well, we're in agreement then, there's a first," said Crichton. He stood up from where he kneeled beside Aeryn. "We need a cooler place, so I recommend the galley. That is, if that thing hasn't turned off the refrigeration units."

"Fine," said Selane. "It's not too far. Let's get moving now."

Crichton walked over to D'Argo. "How you doing, big guy?"

D'Argo groaned. "I feel like dren. Zhaan gave me an anti-coagulant to hold off blood shock, but I'm not out of the hood yet."

Crichton smiled. "You mean out of the woods. Well, never mind, that works just as well." He reminded himself again why D'Argo made such a good traveling companion; the Luxan handled his pop-culture references like they were his own.

He returned back to cradle Aeryn's head in his hand. "How you feeling? Good enough to move?"

She cleared her throat. "Still feel weak. I'll try to walk…"

"Uh-uh, forget it. Save your energy. I'm carrying you. It gives me another chance to be chivalrous."

She let out a chuckle. "You're starting to make it a career."

Gathering their things, Zhaan helped D'Argo up, with assistance from Pykis. John picked Aeryn up in his arms, and headed for the door. Aeryn cradled the spear that nearly killed her, surmising it may be useful if they had one of the creature's weapons. Rael sniffed the air in the corridor, searching for any sign of it. Kymera and Jhennazim clasped each other for support as they walked out of the room. Selane stayed in the back, walking slowly, too proud to accept any help despite his weakening condition.

The procession slowly descended the Acroyan's tiers; hopeful that the center chambers and the galley's refrigeration units would offer a brief respite from the increasing heat. As they descended, heat was already present or beginning to increase on each tier.

"_It's herding you and the others John. Don't you realize all of you are doing what it wants?"_

Crichton straightened himself, refusing again to show any sign of Scorpius' presence in front of the others, especially not while carrying Aeryn.

"_They're coming to get you, Jooohhhnnnn…"_

_You know what Scorpy? I really hate it when a bad guy quotes 'Night of the Living Dead.'_

****

The creature put the now-empty container down on the table. The salve did its job, hardening the burnt patches of skin, numbing it while it healed. It sprayed the remaining amount on the pulse pistol wound that had raked its arm after fighting the Illanic.

Discomfort subsiding, the creature quickly packed up the medical kit and proceeded down to the bottom tier of the ship where it had set up camp while on board.

After repairing the gauntlet, it began sorting through its weapons cache. It had to leave the spear in the Peacekeeper female's leg after the human male had burned it, and there were no more remaining. There was another snare net, an attachment to its shoulder cannon that fired fork-shaped projectiles and a glaive.

The creature reached down for the glaive and placed its fingers into the grooved holes in the center that corresponded to its grip. Its thumb nudged against the button that polarized the blades. Instantly a hum generated and the silver blades expanded to twice their length and hardness.

Looking up, there was a Sebacean skull sitting on a dais it had fashioned from its most recent hunt. With a wide swing of its arm, the edge of the glaive sheared the top of the skull off. The top flew through the air and struck the wall, falling to the floor with a rattle. After spinning a few times, it came to a rest. The bottom half of the skull remained on the dais, perfectly still.

The creature admired its own handiwork and stared intently at the new weapon. It would do just fine.

"_Easy pickings…"_ it said.

****

"How do you feel?" Crichton asked.

Aeryn sat up straight from where he had placed her in the galley's refrigeration unit. To everyone's relief, it was still functioning. The other Sebaceans quietly sat, grateful for a reprieve in the cool air.

"Better than I did. Did we kill the Haaksekah? I remember your shot ignited the fuel from the bomb I threw at him, but after that…"

"No. I'm sure we only wounded it. And as my Dad used to say when he took me hunting, there's nothing more dangerous than a wounded animal."

"You're father was right about that," said Jhennazim, who walked up and sat down in front of them. "I fear that the final confrontation with it has yet to happen."

Aeryn smiled at the woman. "I want to thank you for what you did. For a moment, I really thought that creature had finished me."

"Yeah, thanks for saving her," Crichton added. "That's a nice little gift you have there. Do all of your people have that ability?"

Jhennazim laughed. "No. Orgone energy." She held up her hands, turning them in the air. "I am blessed among my people with the power to heal. It's seen as a spiritual gift. But I can only do so much in a certain amount of time." She glanced over at D'Argo, who was still being attended to by Zhaan. "I would help him in an instant, but the orgone within me must be replenished."

"Is your ability the reason you're a prisoner?" Aeryn asked.

Jhennazim tilted her head, and clasped her hands together. "When the Peacekeepers discovered my ability, they wanted me to heal their wounded when they returned from battle. As I said, I can only do so much. The amount they would require me to use would have killed me."

"Besides," she added, " I only use my gift on the needy. Those with a good soul I bestow my gift upon, such as you." She put her hand on Aeryn's knee. "The Peacekeepers imprisoned me for refusing to heal those who would go out and kill the innocent, again and again. Namely themselves."

Aeryn nodded, but said nothing. If the healer had known everything of her past, would she have been as generous to her with her talents?

"You would have gained better treatment had you cooperated with us, woman," said Selane. "Our soldiers need medical attention when they are injured just like any other species."

"I did not see 'other' species slaughtering the people who took me in, Captain," replied Jhennazim. "Nor did I see them setting fire to entire villages, like the Peacekeepers did."

"So, where exactly are you from?" Crichton asked, ignoring Selane. "Where's Proxi- whaddyacallit?"

"Proximos."

"Exactly. Everyone here seems to find you as strange as they find me."

She let out a sigh. "If I could tell you, I would, but I am lost out here. Mine is a primitive world, we do not travel the stars, and my world has had no alien contact." She shrugged her shoulders. "At least, until me."

"So, how did you wind up here?" Aeryn asked.

"I was 'taken' from my home one night by strange beings. While they examined me on board their ship, we were thrown through a maelstrom in the sky. Upon exiting the maelstrom my abductors were pursued and killed by the Peacekeepers. I escaped with several other abducted beings, and found shelter on another world, a peaceful one. But the Peacekeepers found me again."

She shrugged her shoulders. "And so, here I am."

Crichton stared at the beautiful alien in shock. Her story sounded like a UFO abduction scenario he used to read about back on Earth. _Taken?_ What is a maelstrom in the sky? A wormhole? He could scarcely believe it. She was another lost soul, just like him.

A loud _thud_ jarred Crichton out of his thoughts. "You are going to have to hit harder than that, Zhaan," D'Argo moaned. "It's a frelling big wound."

The Delvian stroked his forehead. "Be patient, sweet D'Argo, I have the blood running clear in one wound. But the other wound is larger. It will take some time."

"I'm afraid our time is running out," said Kymera, inspecting the temperature sensor on the refrigeration unit's wall. "Captain? According to this reading, the power is beginning to drop in here as well."

Selane growled, again. "Frell! That creature is relentless! It's not going to rest until we are all dead or cooked alive."

Crichton nodded in agreement. "It's trying to flush us out, draw us towards it. It wants us to fight."

"Fight?" Pykis said. "We can't function in the heat. Only a few of us can at the moment. Who does it intend to fight?"

"Good question."

There were only a few people left on the ship, and the creature was not discriminating between Peacekeeper and prisoner. There was a method to everything it had done. There were the bodies lying in neat rows with weapons lying respectfully beside them, heads missing from the larger bodies, the use of spears, nets and other assorted weapons. The thing was practically on a safari.

Scorpius's voice interrupted again. _"Oh, very good, John. You are getting red hot!"_

"It's on safari."

Aeryn looked up at him. "What?"

"The damn thing is hunting us," Crichton said. "It's looking for some action, and we're it."

She paused a moment, suddenly remembering the creature's appearance. "John, the creature had skulls tied around its waist."

He nodded. "Yep, that thing is definitely collecting trophies. It's bagged a Scarran, a couple of Illanics and a few Peacekeepers. Now, it's looking for some more variety."

"Then we need to take it down before it takes us down."

All heads turned towards D'Argo, who lifted his head to speak again. "That beast will be coming back, so I suggest we prepare for it."

****

Two arns passed with no sign of the creature. Crichton, Zhaan and Rael worked quickly, setting up barricades in front of all the openings to the center chamber. Jhennazim remained in the refrigeration unit tending to D'Argo's wounds. Aeryn, Selane, Pykis and Kymera all sat against the wall, their faces damp, but unable to fully perspire to cool off. They were growing steadily weaker from the increasing temperature. The power in the refrigeration unit had died over an arn ago, and entry and exit into the room had been kept to a minimum to conserve the remaining cool air. But even that was fading fast.

Crichton looked through the transparent door of the refrigeration unit. Aeryn and the others would succumb to the Living Death if something were not done soon. Options were limited: either awaken the pilot to restore control, or attempt to blast the hangar doors open and flee. Either choice meant venturing out into the ship where the creature was waiting, cloaked and ready to claim another victim. A fight seemed to be the only option, but that was exactly what the creature wanted.

And the hunt is what it excelled at. Killing was its business, and business was good.

Crichton wiped his arm across his wet forehead. "Zhaan, this isn't going to work. We can't stay here any longer. Aeryn and the others are not going to make it if we do."

Zhaan nodded her head. "I know, John. But, I don't understand why the creature is doing this. What is it trying to accomplish?"

"It doesn't want us to stay in one place and hide. It wants us moving around. That's more of a challenge for it. It makes for better sport." Crichton looked over the nearest barricade, seeing only an empty corridor. "We have to get moving anyway. This is a big ship. Maybe the lower tiers are still cooler. If they are, we can get to Moya's transport pod. The creature can't control the temperature in there."

"Or perhaps it can. It's very intelligent, John."

He hated it when she played devil's advocate. She was really good at it.

"John Crichton, may I suggest we create a diversion that will allow the others to make it to the pod?"

Crichton and Zhaan turned to face Rael. She had spoken only a few words during their entire time together. They had almost forgotten about her presence.

"We're open to ideas," Crichton said. "What do you suggest?"

"There is only one Haaksekah on board, surely it can't be in two places at once."

"I think I know what you're suggesting. That's way too risky, Rael. If we split up, we'll be even more vulnerable."

Rael frowned. "That is an inevitability, Crichton. We either try or we die," she said calmly. "And besides, I am not long for this world anyway. I sense my own death soon approaching."

"What do you mean?" Zhaan asked.

"That beast killed my mate. I will stay and fight until I have killed it, or it has killed me. That is our way. Half of us wield honor, half of us wield courage and half of us wield tenacity. I owe my mate R'urfar and his memory that much, and I will honor him."

He knew little about Vocarians, but from what he and Aeryn had once encountered on the planet Dam-Ba-Da over a cycle ago, they were pure instinct, besides being mathematically challenged.

"I'm trying to save everyone on board from this creature."

"That's not ours to decide, John. Alien life practices alien ritual," Zhaan said.

"But all life respects life. You know that more than anyone here, Zhaan."

"_Touché, John!"_

_You really need to frelling die, Scorpy. You know that?_

Zhaan said nothing.

"All right," he finally said. "Let's get ready then. Zhaan, do you have anything you can give Aeryn and the others to help them fight the heat?"

Zhaan reached into her pouch and produced a clear bottle filled with round violet –colored pills. "Xohlox Extract. This will reduce body temperature temporarily while they are out in the heat."

They walked into the refrigeration unit in time to hear the faint crackling of energy from Jhennazim's fingers as she finished on the wounds on D'Argo's back. She fell back as he sat up straight.

"Blood is running clear," she said, completely exhausted.

Crichton walked over, handing him his Qualta Blade he humbly lent for guarding the refrigeration unit. "Finally out of the danger zone, huh, big guy? How do you feel?"

D'Argo looked up, more than a little irritated. "Like dren. I have a backache for some reason. Any idea why?"

"I hope you're up for moving around, we have to get out of here and fast."

Selane stood up. "Is that more of your brilliant reasoning, Crichton? How many more of my soldiers are going to die because of you and your tralk here?" He indicated to Aeryn. "We will go where I say we go."

Aeryn ignored the remark. Reasoning with Selane was next to impossible.

Crichton walked up to him and stood toe to toe with the Peacekeeper Captain. "I've had just about enough of your crap. You think you would still be alive now if we hadn't come? This thing is hunting all of us in here. I'm trying to keep us all alive, you included, but I'm running out of reasons to do that. Can you give me one?"

Selane only stared back at him.

"Now," he continued, anger building up inside of him, "do you want to stay here and let the Living Death take hold or do you want a fighting chance in our transport pod?"

Selane laughed. "So, you'll throw yourself at the creature now to save us? It looks like our salvation is up to this human. No one here asked for your help, did we?"

Pykis and Kymera said nothing, watching the whole proceeding was agony by now.

"We're Peacekeepers. We fight our own battles. Give me one good reason I should even agree to anything you say, you frelling criminal egomaniac?"

"Fine. I'll give you two."

Without warning, Crichton's fist slammed into Selane's abdomen. The Peacekeeper doubled over, unprepared for the blow. Crichton followed through with a solid punch to his jaw. Selane went down hard, sprawled out on the floor.

"_Good shot, John! Now, kick him in the groin a few times. Let's test how much adrenaline you can produce."_

Crichton stood there, his fists clenching and unclenching. Surprised by own his actions, more so because it was not all his doing. He could feel Scorpius inside, trying to wrest control from him.

"John, stop!" Aeryn gasped. "If we fight amongst ourselves, we'll never get out of here alive."

He stood silently, and took a deep breath. _Go away, Scorpy. You're not in control here._

"_Perhaps I just want you to think that, John."_

_You want to try me, asshole?_

Crichton watched Selane stand back up, to weak from heat delirium to retaliate. "Sorry about that, Selane. But… don't push me again."

Selane remained bent over, holding his abdomen. He glared at Crichton. They were never going to be friends at this rate.

"So, now what?" D'Argo asked.

"We're going down to the transport hangar. Aeryn and the others here will be safer in the pod, where the creature can't control the temperature. We'll be closer to the docking bay doors, too. One way or another we are getting off this tub."

Zhaan began to pass the violet-colored pills around to all the Sebaceans. "These will lower your internal temperature briefly, so you will be able to function out there. But we have to move quick."

"All right," said Crichton. "Let's get out of here."

****

They walked slowly down the access arteries towards the transport hangar, staying close to the walls, on constant vigil for a sign of the creature. Each Sebacean walked with support from an ally, except for Selane, still seething at his recent humiliation in the refrigeration unit. Anger kept him going without help. Rael sniffed the air at every intersection, her sense of smell honed to detect the slightest scent of the creature. She had burned its pungent odor into her mind, ever since the moment it butchered her mate several solar days before.

As they approached the transport hangar, Aeryn breathed a sigh of relief at the gust of cool air in the room billowing around her. At least the heat hadn't touched this part of Acroyan. She removed her arm from Crichton's shoulder, feeling strong enough to stand on her own.

"How is everyone doing?" Crichton asked.

"I'm feeling better," Aeryn said. "A little bit, anyway."

Zhaan quickly checked the others to assess their conditions. "D'Argo's wound is healing but he is still weak from the blood loss. Jhennazim is still weakened from using her healing powers. Captain Selane and the others are cooling down, but I think we should still put them and Aeryn in the transport pod as a safety precaution."

"Still not a good checklist, but I agree." Crichton said. "Say, I've been thinking about something Rael was saying, that the creature couldn't be in two places at once. We could run a distraction."

Zhaan looked at him, puzzled. "How do you mean?"

"That thing stopped us before from trying to reach the pilot, but we were all together. If we can keep it occupied down here while one of us goes up to the pilot's chamber and revives her, we could get the edge on it."

"That is still too risky, John. You saw what the creature could do, and all the deaths it has caused. I'm sure the Peacekeepers already thought of that idea, why would this time be any different?"

Rael's head snapped up abruptly. She sniffed the air in the hangar. "Prepare."

Crichton turned to the Vocarian. "What? Rael…"

Simultaneously, all the doors to the hangar began to close. D'Argo and Pykis rushed to the door where the transport pod sat, to stop it from sealing. They were still too weakened from the heat and from injury, the closed before they could reach them.

"Dammit!" Crichton said. "It's a trap!" He cursed at himself for not seeing it sooner. Aeryn, D'Argo and the others formed a tight circle with him to prepare for the coming assault. All eyes were focused on the doors.

"_No, John. Look above you, it's coming through the vents."_

Crichton looked upward, responding to Scorpius's instruction, just in time to see a transparent distortion in the air moving out of a hole in the upper part of the hangar, just below the ceiling. Without hesitating, he opened fire with both his pulse pistols, with Aeryn and the others doing the same, following him on faith that he knew what he was doing.

The creature lunged, trying hard to dodge the energy bursts from their pulse weapons. It failed to get the advantage, not being prepared for their assault.

The creature somersaulted into the air, landing behind some storage crates with a loud _crash_. Moving quickly, the others surrounded the large pile of boxes, containers and engine parts ready to shoot at the first sign of movement.

There was nothing there.

"Where the frell did it go?" D'Argo said. He sniffed the air for a trace of the creature's presence, but was unable to locate it.

Rael detected the creature first. "Luxan! Behind you!"

D'Argo turned in time to swing at the creature with his blade. The creature ducked and struck D'Argo with a hard tackle. Aeryn, Pykis and the others pointed their weapons towards the struggling bodies on the floor, unable to get a clear shot for fear of hitting their ally.

Suddenly, a hard blow from the creature knocked D'Argo back, sending him over a table to land beside Pykis. The others began shooting at the rapidly moving distortion, unable to make a hit as it weaved around and behind the storage crates and metal containers that were stacked all over the hangar.

Aeryn quickly checked the oil level in her pulse rifle. "Spread out, this time we can finish it!"

Without warning, the creature came out from behind a large Marauder engine and broke into a charge. It dodged the weapons crossfire that had erupted, trying to stop it in its tracks. Spotting it, Pykis lit the remaining Molotov and threw it; hoping to finish it and avenge Gemmin's death at the same time.

It was ready this time. An instant the bomb left Pykis' hand the creature's energy weapon struck it, igniting it into a brilliant flash of light. The blast caught Pykis and D'Argo head on, blinding both of them. The sudden burst of heat in close quarters weakened everyone in the hangar.

Crichton had managed to pull Aeryn and Zhaan behind a table to deflect some of the heat, but the blinding flash disoriented them. Over the sound of pulse rifles firing, a loud cry of pain and a woman's scream jolted them back into action.

"Help! Help me!"

Getting up, Crichton saw Jhennazim being carried off kicking and screaming by the creature. Pykis was lying on the floor, curled up and bleeding from a gash in his side where the creature had stabbed him, in its rush to escape with the Proximosian.

The hangar doors began to open. Just before the creature slipped through, it turned to look at Crichton, it's yellow eyes flashing.

"_Ever dance with the devil in the pale moonlight?"_

Crichton froze.

"_Dance with the devil."_

The creature disappeared behind the door. Crichton followed in hot pursuit.

"Rael! Zhaan! Go through the other doors, try and block it!"

With a snarl, Rael ran through the farthest door. Zhaan grabbed a large wrench and ran through the door to her right.

She nearly collided with the creature as it ran down the corridor towards the lower sections. She struck it hard in the leg with the wrench, causing it to turn and retaliate, its shoulder weapon pivoting with its head.

But the creature continued to turn its head, left, then right and back again, confused by the images that registered through its helmet. No images would be a better description. It saw nothing in the corridor that could have struck it.

Zhaan backed away slowly. She was barely an arms reach away from the creature, but it did not seem to notice her. It was not making any eye contact, but clearly scanning for its attacker.

The creature turned and moved quickly down the corridor. The unconscious Jhennazim was slung over its shoulder. She had fainted from fright. Zhaan stood there for a long time, her mouth open from astonishment.

"It didn't see me."

As she walked back through the door, she heard Aeryn and the others cry out. The vents were now blowing hot air into the hangar.

****

Rael ran through the corridors hot on the trail of the creature. A bitter scent hung in the air, making it easy for her to track it. Jhennazim's scent made it twice as easy.

Coming to an intersection in the corridor, she stopped. The creature was nearby- its scent was everywhere, but nowhere to be seen. Sniffing the air, she cautiously walked into the doorway to her right. Lying on the floor was an unconscious Jhennazim. Her dark red hair lay all around her head in a silken mass. It almost resembled a pool of blood under the dim light in the room.

Rael kneeled down to check her pulse. The healer was unharmed. As she did, she became aware of a presence slowly moving behind her. Out of the corner of her eye she detected a distortion in the air.

She tucked and rolled forward as a blade flashed past her head. Turning quickly, she fired her pulse rifle on full auto in a sweeping arc. There was a cry of pain as a shot contacted the creature's leg. Fluorescent blood splattered on the floor.

"Crichton was right. You can bleed demon," Rael hissed. "And now, you die as well."

The creature circled Rael, thrusting and parrying with its blade. Ral countered the blows with her pulse rifle, snarling in defiance. Revenge for her mate's death pressed her to fight harder.

For an instant, they seemed evenly matched. But the creature's energy was boundless. Rael began to struggle. Determined to end their duel, she leveled her pulse rifle and squeezed off several shots.

The creature saw an opening. In a blinding instant, the blade from its gauntlet opened the side of her neck. A spray of scarlet mist left Rael's body, splattering the wall to her left.

Falling to her knees, she looked up at the creature, now standing still. "I have cut you for my mate, and I spit on you."

Blood began to run down the corners of her lips. "Your blood will spill to the ground and nourish nothing," she said, using an old Vocarian insult.

Rael fell forward, dead. The last sight her eyes saw was Jhennazim waking up and gazing at her straight in the eye. Terror framed her delicate features.

****

"Where is Rael?"

Crichton slowly walked into the transport pod where Aeryn, Zhaan, D'Argo and the Peacekeepers quietly sat, the cooler temperature of the pod holding off the Living Death for a short while longer. He did not answer immediately.

"She chased the thing," Crichton said in a low voice. "Looks like she managed to wound it, there was some weird, glowing blood on the floor. But… " He paused. "She still lost." Crichton sat down beside Aeryn. "At least the creature didn't take anything. But it still made off with Jhennazim."

"How are your eyes?"

D'Argo exhaled in disgust at Zhaan's question. Suffering two debilitating injuries in one day was very degrading to the Luxan. "Well, I just got over a near-fatal injury. But now, I can't SEE A FRELLING THING!"

"Neither can I," said Pykis. "Will this be permanent, P'au Zhaan?"

"No, Pykis. Your retinas are not permanently scarred. I'll give you and D'Argo some healing drops that will repair eyesight." Zhaan finished up cleaning the Peacekeeper's wound the creature had inflicted. "Or perhaps Jhennazim's gift can heal them much faster. But it won't matter much if the heat comes back on."

"You said earlier outside that you don't think the creature saw you. How could that be?" Crichton asked, confused. The creature had excelled in everything it did, was it possible it had a weakness in its vision? He had to hope for something.

"I stood right in front of it John, it did not seem to know I was there. I don't know the reasons."

"_Oh Crichton, You are disappointing me so much. You are a scientist. Think about this: There are great temperature extremes on this ship. That is the key."_

John reflected on what Scorpius' voice was telling him. He might be on to something. This time, it might actually prove to be valuable.

"If sight is its weakness, then that could be our key to beating this creature," Aeryn said, her damp again with perspiration, but not enough to cool her down. "For the love of Chilnak, Zhaan, aren't you hot too?"

"I do not get hot, Aeryn. My body does not need to regulate heat. It is a natural occurrence in Delvian physiology."

Crichton suddenly looked up. "What did you say?"

She looked at him, perplexed. "I do not get hot John."

"No, no, no. Zhaan, would you say your body temperature is the same as the temperature in the room right now?"

"I suppose so, yes."

He snapped his fingers and clenched his fist. "That's it! That thing sees by heat. That's why it didn't see you, you were the same temperature as the air."

"She was invisible?" Aeryn asked.

"That's right. Hell, that's probably the reason it wears that helmet. Then, it uses that cloaking device it has to get the jump on us. If we can make ourselves invisible to him, we can nail him." Crichton pulled Zhaan's medical bag closer to him. "Blue, do you have anything in here that can mask my body heat?"

Zhaan reached in and carefully removed a jar full of a clear salve. "I have some Thermafen paste. If you rub it on the skin it will mask your bodies heat. Why?"

"Perfect. I have a plan, and I need you to help me pull it off. We are starting this ship back up and nailing tall, burnt and gruesome."

Selane leaned forward. "What are you getting at, Crichton?"

"That thing kidnapped Dr. Zern. So, it must know of her healing abilities. I think it's baiting us to come after it and fight; otherwise the rest of you may die." Crichton's face tightened. "Actually, I'm pretty sure it's me that it wants."

"What?" Aeryn said, stunned. "Why you?"

"Before it ran out of the hangar with Jhennazim, it said something to me, an earth saying. I recognized it in an instant, pop-culture whore that I am. And if it does see by heat, then it can tell my body heat is higher than a Sebaceans. That thing knows I'm Human." Crichton stood back up. "So, I'm going out to fight it."

"Her eyes widened. "What? John, that's suicide!"

"Absolutely out of the question," exclaimed D'Argo. "You are not a warrior. That thing butchered a Scarran and a clan of Illanics. What kind of chance could you possibly have?"

"I have knowledge," Crichton said, putting a finger to his head. "And a little something extra."

"_Excellent, John. You will make me proud of you yet."_

_Shut up Scorpy._

"John, who are you talking to?" Zhaan said.

****

Pilot's eyes widened at Crichton's words. "Commander, if this creature is that dangerous, should you be attempting to challenge it?"

"_I've already gotten the speech from Aeryn and D'Argo, Pilot. There is no other way around this. I'm going to get the Proximosian woman. Zhaan is going up to Acroyan's pilot to revive her. We have to restore internal temperature within the arn, or Aeryn and the others won't make it."_

"Understood. But I think I should tell you that Moya has detected a vessel on its way towards our location."

"_Is it a Peacekeeper ship?"_ Aeryn interrupted, her voice barely a rasp over the comm.

"Unknown, Officer Sun. It is still too far away to determine, but we will be cautious in any case."

"Don't worry gang," Chiana said. "I'll get Rygel to help me hook up the defense shield from the Zelbinion. That should hold them off."

"I'm not helping her! She tried to kill me twice already! Pilot, I say we get out of here right this moment. I'm-"

The sound off Rygel loudly protesting while being carted off by Chiana faded from the comm.

"_Hold down the fort, Pilot,"_ Crichton said. _"One way or another, we are getting out of here. But, in the meantime, I want you to maintain radio silence until I call you."_

"Standing by, Commander."

Pilot returned his attention to the controls, tracking the unknown ship. It was not following the standard trajectory the Peacekeepers normally used, nor did its design match anything in Moya's data stores. If the ship belonged to the species that was hunting Crichton, Aeryn and the others, what chance would they have, considering the slaughter that one creature alone had wrought?

He suppressed a shudder.

****

Crichton worked quickly, with Zhaan's assistance, smearing the menthol-smelling paste on the exposed areas of his skin. Although he hated to do it, he covered his private areas too, per Zhaan's suggestion, since one can never be too sure. After a quick weapons check, he transferred all the remaining Chakan oil to Winona, his favorite pistol. He picked up the alien spear the creature had used on Aeryn, rotating it in his hand, and checking its balance. If he had to fight the creature, using its own weapon against it might work in his favor.

He paused. She was giving him that look again. The same one she gave when he departed for the Gammak base to get a tissue sample to save her life, the one when she wanted to leave on Talyn to watch after its well being, the one that always looked like goodbye.

"We don't say goodbye. Remember?"

He read her mind. "John, this is madness, please reconsider this," Aeryn pleaded. "You said it yourself. It's wounded, and nothing is more dangerous than that wounded creature."

"If I don't try, Aeryn, we all die anyway. Besides, I'm the only one unaffected by the heat and who's not injured to go out there and fight it."

"Then take this, you'll need all the firepower you can get." She handed him her pulse rifle. "There's enough oil left in it to shoot several bursts."

He accepted it with a smile. "I'll consider this my good luck charm."

"John, if you don't make it back, and the Living Death takes hold of us, I…"

He held a finger to her lips. "That's not going to happen. Zhaan and I are going to do whatever it takes. We are getting out of here alive and in one piece. Understand?"

She said nothing. The look in her eyes spoke volumes. The crazy human never gave up on hope. Fight, resist and press on. Or knock out the one that tries to hurt her. That is what made him Crichton.

_My hero,_ she thought.

"So go already," Selane said, with no small amount of contempt.

Paying no mind to Selane, Crichton walked to the door of the transport pod. "You ready, Zhaan?"

She gave the bottle of Xohlox pills to Kymera. "Dispense these to your comrades and to Aeryn every quarter of an arn. They will hold back the heat until we restore the internal temperature to normal."

"But what if you can't?" Kymera said. It was not a good time to worry about the final outcome.

"Then, I will pray to the goddess for all of us."

Selane rolled his eyes, deciding not to say anything further. Pykis sat quietly against the hull with Kymera, gold bandages covering his eyes. D'Argo and Aeryn sat beside each other trying to ease the other's discomfort. With one final look back, Crichton and Zhaan slipped out the door and down the ladder into the rising heat.

"Good luck," Aeryn whispered.

****

He pressed the comm's button. "Zhaan, can you read me?"

"_I'm here, John."_

"How are you doing? Where are you at now?"

"_There is no sign of the creature. I am just below the top tier. I'm going to take the same route Aeryn and the Peacekeeper woman took to reach the pilot."_

"Sounds good. As long as tall, dark and gruesome doesn't see you. Let's maintain radio silence until I contact you again."

"_Understood."_

Crichton's eyes adjusted to the dimly lit corridors as he descended the tiers of the _Acroyan._ His breathing grew heavier. The air began to feel like inhaling a blast furnace, and he was perspiring heavily. Had he been a Sebacean, he would no doubt be comatose by now- or dead. He treaded the corridor silently, staying close to the walls as the others had done. The ship was deathly quiet. It reminded him too much of the Nil outside.

Instinct told him to descend into the _Acroyan._ He actually had no idea where the creature would be waiting, but a gut feeling told him to go downwards. It was that, and the voice of Scorpius chattering in his head. The thing was still giving out advice.

"_You are taking a big risk, Crichton. This creature is a predator, he wants you for a trophy, and I cannot allow that. He does not value the knowledge that is locked in your brain the way I do."_

_Damn, Scorpy. I'm going to start crying in a minute. I didn't know you cared so much. Besides, he probably doesn't know about the knowledge._

The voice continued, unabated by his sarcasm_. "You are a vitally important asset John. Now listen to me, your survival will depend on the information that I can impart to you. I have knowledge of this creature from the past encounters the Peacekeepers have had with it in the Nil. I know some of the strategies it uses. Why do you think I anticipated the attack in the transport hangar? You have the right idea by masking your body heat. The key to victory in the art of war is deception."_

_Wonderful. I see you have been doing some reading while you've been in my head._

"_I must say I am quite impressed by the literature of your world, John. The Peacekeepers would benefit greatly from some of these precepts. But never mind, I believe you should be coming soon upon the creature's lair."_

He peered slowly around a corner. There was a long room being used for storage, filled with crates and containers. It was dimly lit, with a makeshift torch flickering in the center. Shadows danced back and forth on its vaulted ceiling. Flashes of gold shimmered along the walls from the torch's reflection. A doorway sat open at the far end, spilling faint light into the chamber. Through the door, the muffled cries of a woman could be heard.

Jhennazim Zern. She was still alive.

Moving slowly along the wall, his eyes darted about, hopeful to spot some sign of the creature. The room was quiet. There were no transparent distortions in the air, no silhouettes of a large body and no voices. Nothing.

"_You need a piece of bait, John. Lure the creature here."_

Crichton reached into his pocket and produced the small recorder he carried to make messages for his father. The tape from his most recent log entry was still in it. Moving through the mass of crates and containers, he sat it on a small box closest to the torch. He quietly depressed the play button.

"_Hey Dad, it's me again. I did reckless act number six hundred and sixty six again. I punched out this guy on a commerce planet. Hey, believe me it was completely justifiable after what he said to Aeryn. But let me tell you-"_

He moved silently back into the crates and patiently waited for the thing to appear. He knew for certain he would not have to wait long. The thing spoiled for a fight now, just like him.

****

"Frell, is this heat ever going to end?"

Pykis exhaled deeply. His last comment took some effort to say. Despite being in the cooler air of the transport pod, the temperature was still rising. The creature had managed to insure that full power was limited to any vehicle in the leviathan. The pod's systems struggled to maintain low temperature, but it was failing. The creature had thought of everything. Whatever modifications had been set up, they insured that Peacekeepers, prisoners and anyone else would not be leaving.

"Crichton and Zhaan will restore systems," Aeryn said. "Just give them some time."

"Crichton? I've frelling heard enough about your bastard human to last me ten lifetimes," Selane said, perspiration barely beading off his lip as he spoke.

"Were it not for him, you would be dead already," she replied.

"Then I'd be better off!" He struggled to his feet. "I've suffered enough humiliation at the hands of that inferior parasite, and I'll not let him control our fate anymore!"

"That inferior parasite kicked your eema all over the refrigeration unit as I recall," said D'Argo. "So why don't you sit down now before I do it to you as well?"

The captain turned to the blinded Luxan. "You? You will be in one of our cells when this is over. Besides, you can't see a thing right now. Just how do you-"

"Shut up, sir."

Selane's mouth dropped open. "What did you say to me, Officer Pykis?"

Pykis lifted his head slightly, his expression covered by the bandages over his eyes. "I said shut the frell up, sir. All of our crew is dead except for us, and I am tired of listening to you. You whine like a tralk."

"How dare you."

"Shut the frell up, Captain. Or I'll finish what Crichton started."

"I will have you court-martialed for that, Officer! I might have given you and Tovin here partial credit for capturing these escaped convicts, but now I will see to it you are declared irreversibly contaminated!"

"The Illanic was right," Kymera said quietly. "You have no honor."

Selane screamed in rage. Defiance from his own crew turned out to be his breaking point. With a backhand slap, he knocked Kymera to the ground and took the near empty bottle of Xohlox she had been dispensing to the others. Grabbing his pulse rifle, he ran to the transport pod's door.

"Selane!" Aeryn cried out. "What are you doing? We need those."

"All of you can frelling die, as far as I am concerned."

D'Argo blindly lurched forward to grab him, but was struck in the head by a blow from the butt of a pulse rifle. Selane jumped through the door and down the ladder, swallowing as many of the round pills as he could.

Selane ran down the access arteries to find Crichton and the creature. Hate burned his insides even more than the air he was breathing. He ignored the discomfort. Revenge had a strong numbing effect on him.

****

Crichton tensed. It had only been a few minutes, but he already detected the creature's presence. There was a strange sensation he could not describe. Before he could turn his head to look, a distortion moved past him, not even an arms length away. As big as it was, it made no noise. He remained still as death. The creature had come up from behind him, but had not detected him. Perhaps he still had a chance yet.

Carefully shifting his feet, he moved onto a large metal container to get closer to the doorway where he had heard Jhennazim's muffled cries. His right boot heel dragged and made a barely-audible scraping sound. He froze.

The creature stopped and turned its head. It had detected movement. Scanning across the wall behind it, there was nothing registering a heat signature. Perhaps the noise had been some beetles scuttling between the crates, nothing more.

"_Do not use the spear yet, John."_ Scorpius' voice warned. _"Use the pulse rifle first."_

He raised the weapon and waited for the creature to come down to the torch. Its mass settled beside the small box where his recorder laid. A transparent finger extended and nudged the small silver device.

The message on the recording continued_: "I tell you Dad, I never fail to be amazed at the stuff I see out here. You never know when something is going to jump out at you and try to stomp you."_

He squeezed the trigger. A bright burst of light shot out and struck the creature full center. It turned fast, limbs outstretched and fists clenched. No sooner did it recoil from the shot that retaliation came, firing multiple bursts from its shoulder weapon.

He leaped off the crates. The creature may not have been able to see him, but its accuracy was astounding, even if it was firing blindly. The shots flared, lighting up the wall behind him. He squeezed off several shots as he ran through the doorway, the creature following in hot pursuit.

He barely turned a corner when a stray shot almost clipped him. There was a bright flash and sparks as the bolt exploded against the bulkhead of the _Acroyan_. The thing caused so much damage that _Acroyan_ might have felt it were he awake. That shoulder weapon it used packed a wallop. He needed to disable it somehow, if he even wanted half a chance against it.

"_John, do you remember how you once defeated a Scarran that had kidnapped you on a commerce planet? Do you remember how you used your pulse pistol?"_

He held up his pulse pistol and sighed heavily. He hated to lose Winona. Actually, it was Winona number three or four, but he no longer counted the incarnations. Aeryn and the others were far more important. If this were going to work, he would have to time it right.

He found himself at the far end of a long stretch of corridor with an opening to his right. Standing flush against the wall, he focused on the far end of the corridor, waiting for the creature to appear. There was no other way for it to come in, unless it was so smart it used the escape route he was planning to use. He preferred not to give it too much credit, but it had been on the ship longer than him.

He straightened up when he saw the large transparent distortion appear at the other end of the corridor. It stood there for several moments. He remained perfectly still, unsure of whether or not it could see him. Finally, it slowly walked forward; it's body turning to the left and right. It was scanning for him.

_Come closer._

It was at the halfway point in the corridor when Crichton's thumb flicked a switch on the pulse pistol. A high-pitched whine filled the air as the pistol's pulse chamber began to overload.

The creature stopped suddenly, focusing its attention on where the noise emanated from. Three red points of light now moved against the wall, slowly making their way to where Crichton stood, frozen.

_Come closer, you bastard._

The creature began walking forward again, quicker. The whine from the pulse pistol was increasing in pitch. It was only a matter of microts.

"_John! Get down, now!"_ Scorpius' voice said.

He hit the floor just as a snare net slammed against the wall, the mesh instantly constricting over nothing. Pulling the pistol out of his holster, he flung it in the air towards the creature as he bolted for the door on his right.

His aim had been impeccable. There was a ground-shaking _boom_ as the pistol exploded right over the creature's shoulder. Thrown back by the blast, it fell to the ground, badly wounded. Sparks and smoke billowed out of its helmet as well as the barrel of the now damaged shoulder weapon.

He ran fast, not bothering to look and see if the creature was pursuing. Aeryn's pulse rifle was slung over his back, slapping him with each step he took. He held the alien spear in his one hand, his other hand held nothing. He now wished he had bought more weapons with him. The creature, had recovered from every injury, could it be beyond death?

_No._ _If it bleeds, it can be killed_.

"Crichton!"

A woman's crying stopped him in his tracks. Up on top of a platform, Jhennazim hung, her feet barely touching the surface. Her dress was torn revealing a pair of long, sinewy legs. The cloth from her dress bound her hands, which were tied over her head and suspended from a cable.

"Crichton! Help me!"

He stepped up to the platform, and with one sweeping arc of the spear, cut the cloth bonds that held her up. She fell against him, her arms struggling to regain circulation. He held her trembling form until she could stand on her own. She looked traumatized, not that he could blame her for it.

"Thank you."

Her hands moved down into the small of his back, rubbing him securely. He exhaled, surprised. He felt something soft and warm pressing into him. He could feel her rapid breathing. She arched her back and pressed her ample chest against his. He hesitated to look down. He was becoming excited. Her head tilted up and her left eye met his gaze. She really was beautiful. She looked like Liz Hurley in grayish-green makeup with yellow eyes and long deep red hair.

"Been so long… since a man… has protected me."

"_Really, John. This is not the time nor place. What would your precious Aeryn think?"_

_Put a cork in it, Leatherface._

"Uh, this is really bad timing, okay? We got to keep moving," Crichton said. "Big and ugly is still gunning for us, I think I wounded him, but we can't take any chances."

"_Crichton, are you there?"_ Aeryn's raspy voice came in over his comm.

"Aeryn? What's wrong?"

"_I know you wanted radio silence, but you should know that Selane has taken the heat reduction drugs, and is coming after you. We didn't get another dose, so you have to hurry!"_

"Damn," he whispered.

With Jhennazim in tow behind him, he ran down the last tier on the leviathan, he fumbled for his comm to communicate the information to Zhaan. He failed to notice a large figure trailing behind; it's failing thermal registers barely detecting the heat signature of a female being pulled along by someone invisible.

****

Zhaan swung open the grate that revealed the expansive room that was the pilot's chamber. Reaching the ground below was child's play for a tenth level P'au. She focused her mind and allowed her body to gently levitate to the walkway below.

Walking behind the control console, she faced the Acroyan's pilot. She swayed only slightly back and forth, her eyelids fluctuating slightly. One of her four limbs twitched slightly at random. Other than that, she remained unconscious.

Zhaan placed her hands to the pilot's face and searched her thoughts. Their species had thought processes that were difficult to comprehend. Emotions, thoughts and non-verbal expressions took on the form of colors in the mind, blending and swirling in an endless turbulence. She looked through the curtain of its recent memories and saw a cloud of deep red, etched with a halo of brilliant yellow dancing along its edges.

The pilot was drugged, heavily drugged. Her mind struggled to awaken but could not find its way.

Zhaan pulled out the dark blue bundle that contained her medical instruments and removed an injector. She filled it with nine units of stimulant designed to revive under heavy sedation. Nine units would have been a lethal dose for any other species, but the leviathan pilots were poured from a different mold.

Injecting the stimulant into the pilot's thick neck, she placed her hands back on her face, searching for signs of consciousness.

"_Zhaan, Zhaan, are you there?"_

Her eyes blinked, concentration disrupted. "Yes, John?"

"_Hurry and wake that pilot. Selane took all the Xohlox and he's coming to try and bump off that creature and me with it. Aeryn and the others don't have much time left."_

She stared at the pilot's still-sleeping form. "Acknowledged."

Reciting a chant, Zhaan placed her hands back on the pilot and began to enter her mind, the need to bring her back to the waking world even more urgent. Lifting back her head, her eyes began to go pure blue.

****

"This way," Crichton said.

With Jhennazim holding his hand, they entered into a long room with thick pipes and conduits lining the ceiling and disappearing into the adjoining walls. He sensed some curvature in the floor. Several open doorways were spaced unevenly along the walls. One of the doorways spilled light into the room. It was cooler here than the previous tiers. He recognized the location.

"We're in Acroyan's belly, this must be where the creature set up its camp."

"And keeps its trophies," she said. "Look over there."

At the far end of the room, a light source was shining on the wall. They walked up to a grisly display of the creature's spoils. Mounted on the wall, above two crossed Illanic swords, was a reptilian skull. A Scarran.

Underneath, several alien skulls were mounted in a row. The thick brow ridge and cranial cavities where tentacles had once protruded identified them as Illanics. Several others also adorned the wall that he did not recognize. Most disturbing of all below this was a macabre garden of Sebacean skulls with their spines still attached all standing upright in neat rows on the floor. There were at least two-dozen of these, all facing forward, their hollow eye sockets staring at nothing.

A copper cylinder stood towards the front of the display, a red cloth draped over it. The top remained unadorned by a trophy. He felt his heart leap into his throat. No doubt the trophy had not yet been bagged yet. The creature had to be reserving that place of honor for a skull- his.

"Does it even eat what it kills?" Jhennazim looked ill as she spoke. "So much death, so much waste. Why does it do this?"

"_Can't take any chances,"_ a voice said from behind them.

Crichton turned. A blow from the back of the creature's hand lifted him off his feet and sent him sprawling, the spear he was holding was knocked from his hands. Jhennazim screamed.

"Jhennazim, run! Get out of here and hide!" He struggled to get back on his feet. The spear lay a few feet from him. He tried carefully to reach it as the creature stood to face him.

She ran towards the doorway where there was a light source. The creature made no move to stop her. No need, the one it really wanted was there, now.

Thin trails of smoke billowed out of its helmet and shoulder weapon as it stood and stared at the dazed human. Crichton froze. He watched as the creature began to disconnect the tubes and cables that had connected its helmet and weapon. The shoulder weapon hit the floor with a heavy _clang_ of metal striking metal. Using both hands, the creature pulled off the helmet.

Under the light, he could at last see the creature's face. The eyes were small for its head and looked far too human for its features. It had nothing that resembled a nose. Its forehead was large and sloped with a bony plate covering the top of its head. Thick black dreadlocks extended below its shoulders on the sides and back, most of them decorated with gold cuffs and rings.

But it was its mouth he noticed. The thing had mandibles, just like on an insect. There were four of them, two above and two below. They were moving independently around its mouth, filled with pointed, sharp teeth.

The creature's pale and mottled skin was badly scarred, recent evidence of its burn wounds, in addition to the more recent ones inflicted by Crichton. Skulls hung about its waist as Aeryn had described, yet more trophies it harvested.

Worse yet, it was enraged.

"Goddamn," Crichton muttered. "I take it your momma's abortion attempt failed?"

The creature's mouth opened wide, with a roar that stood the hairs up on the back of his neck. Instinctively, he jumped to his feet, surprised at his sudden burst of energy.

"_Do not panic, Crichton,"_ came Scorpius' voice_. "I am stimulating your adrenal gland to increase your strength and speed. This should at least give you a fighting chance."_ He felt his chest begin to tighten and his heart started racing like a trip hammer.

The creature swung hard, again and again, trying to strike him. It had taken off the weapons and was determined to fight him hand-to-hand. He dodged the lightning quick swings by a fraction before they could contact. As the creature swung wide with its left hand, he saw an opening and contacted its face with a hard right hook. It might as well have been made of rock. The creature was not an obese mobster from some backwater commerce planet. Had he not had so much adrenaline coursing through him, he would have felt the bones breaking in his hand.

Before he could react, the creature hammered him with its own right hook. Crichton landed hard on his back; the pulse rifle still slung behind him only added to the pain as his spine absorbed the impact from that as well.

The creature grabbed him by his shirt collar and lifted him up. His world was spinning. Despite the unexpected boost from Scorpius, he was still no match for the creature. Its raw power alone could have brought down an elephant.

Hanging by the creature's hand, Crichton heard the extending of its gauntlet blades. Hope began fading before his eyes. Before the killing blow, his mind saw Aeryn and the others succumbing to the heat.

"_Fight Crichton!"_ Scorpius growled in his head. _"You must not die now, you have made it this far, do not give up!"_

"I'm sorry," he whispered quietly. The creature raised the blades.

A burst of light from a pulse rifle struck the creature. With a growl, it dropped him and bolted for one of the doors. He made a supreme effort to get his legs moving underneath him as Selane came running into the room, screaming furiously.

"Oh no, Crichton! The creature can't have you. Not this time. Now, you're my prey!"

He managed to grab the spear as he dodged the bolts from Selane's pulse rifle. Despite the massive dose of Xohlox he had ingested, Selane was still weakening from the heat and his reflexes were off, as well as his aim. Crichton used the opportunity to run through the lighted doorway. If he could find Jhennazim, he could at least get her to safety.

"Zhaan!" He yelled into the comm. "Have you got that pilot awake yet?"

"_She is beginning to stir now, John,"_ Zhaan replied. _"Just a few more moments."_

"Hurry! I got both Selane and the Rasta man from hell trying to kick my ass. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up."

"_I understand. I'm working as fast as the goddess will allow me."_

He entered into a dimly lit room. He maneuvered through a narrow walkway with skeletal grid work flanking either side. Holding both the spear and Aeryn's pulse rifle, he searched the shadows between the frames for a sign of Selane or the creature.

"How does it feel, Crichton?" Selane's voice echoed. "How does it feel to be the one who is hunted, with little hope for survival? This is what we suffered through for days. I sent my best Peacekeepers to kill the creature, and none of them returned. I'll be damned if I let a pathetic excuse for a life like you take my honor away from me or them!"

Crichton shook his head in disgust. "Why doesn't that surprise me? You sent your people to their deaths. Did you even care? You're a lame-ass excuse for an officer, Selane. By anyone's standards."

"No one talks to me that way, especially you!" Selane was screaming. "You struck me in front of my own crew. You turned them against me! I'll kill you for that! I'll take your severed head to Scorpius and I'll have my honor restored!" His voice was coming from the left side of the room. Crichton saw a light source on the right side, barely visible through the grid work. He slid through the narrow beams, working his way towards it.

"Uh-uh, Selane. Scorpy wants me alive. You would be the next dead guy if you don't deliver me intact and breathing."

"Frell him! Who cares about him?" Selane boomed. "Peacekeeper High Command will still reward me. We know all about the destruction of a Gammak base, and we know you had a hand in it. Face it Crichton, you are frelled. You will fall by my hands."

"You suck at fighting, you know that?"

Crichton stepped into the lit chamber. It must have been the vorellium-lined room Selane talked about earlier, the one beneath the ion backwash chamber. Silver alloy lined the walls in stark contrast to the gold and copper tones on the rest of the ship. There was a control console against the wall. Opposite of this was an airlock. This was the very edge of the hammond side of the ship. Only the vacuum of space waited on the other side.

****

The pilot's eyes fluttered open. "W-what happened?"

Zhaan smiled. "Thank the goddess. Finally."

The pilot straightened herself on her dais. "I-I was running a systems integrity check when something came into the chambers." She blinked her eyes twice, confused at a Delvian's presence. "Who are you? There are no Delvians on the current prison roster."

"No time to explain," Zhaan said quickly. "You must restore Acroyan's systems. The temperature is far too high, our friends are in danger of succumbing to the heat." Zhaan pointed at the strange silver box wired to the console. "We believe that device took control away from you. Do you know how to disable its functions?"

An angry swipe from one of her limbs gave her an answer. The box was torn off the console and plummeted harmlessly into the abyss that opened below the pilot's platform. Utilizing her four limbs, she worked with incredible speed restoring power, systems and temperature. Zhaan breathed a sigh of relief. In all the tiers below the pilots, cool air began to circulate through the vents.

****

"That's far enough, Crichton."

Selane slowly stepped into the doorway at the opposite end of the chamber, pulse rifle aimed at his prey. But now, he was visibly shaking. Despite his bravado earlier, the heat was finally taking its toll. Crichton stood in the center of the room, holding his pulse rifle straight at Selane. It was a standoff.

"Selane, you can barely hold that thing up, let alone shoot it. Why don't you cut your losses? That creature is still around here somewhere."

"No, I don't think so, Crichton. I'll finish you, get that creature and then maybe I will reward myself with your whore sitting in the transport pod."

Crichton scowled. There was even a line with him that could be crossed. "Doubt that. This ends now, you understand?"

"Yes," Selane said, beginning to laugh. "It does end now."

A clicking noise diverted their attention. Crichton turned. The creature appeared in the doorway at the other end of the room, trapping him in the middle. It was holding a bladed weapon in its hand. Without warning, it threw the weapon, its blades expanding in size. Selane fired a burst from his pulse rifle at the same time.

Crichton ducked hard as the energy bolt and blade shot past simultaneously, grazing the hair on top of his head. The pulse bolt harmlessly struck the far wall. The blade continued its course, straight towards Selane. He saw from across the room, but weakened by the heat, he could not get out of the way in time. He let out a loud scream a fraction before the blade neatly sheared his head from his body. He stood erect for a few microts before finally collapsing, a geyser of blood shooting out of the stump of his neck.

The creature charged at Crichton, its gauntlet blades extended. It continued its attack earlier, its speed and ferocity doubled. Dropping the pulse rifle, Crichton parried and blocked with the spear as best he could. The creature's blows came down hard, pushing Crichton to his limits to fend off the attacks.

A flickering of the overhead lights and the rush of cool air from the vents caused the creature to pause for a moment- surprised that the ships systems were back on. Crichton seized the opportunity and swiped the spear's barbed end across the creature's face, then rammed it into its thigh. The creature screamed. Fluorescent blood streamed down its face and leg.

"That's for Aeryn, you murdering piece of shit!" Crichton roared. "How you like being stabbed in the leg?"

The creature struck Crichton hard with a closed fist, sending him against the wall. He gasped. Several ribs had cracked upon impact. He had a white-knuckle grip on the spear, but the blow from the creature had separated the half that was stuck in its leg. Crichton held up a handle with the narrow double-edged blade protruding out the thin cylinder of its other end. Now, it was not much to work with.

He tried to step forward, but two blades flashed down on him and impaled his right arm. He cried out, blood was trailing down his arm as the creature threw him around the room, twisting the blades in his wound, opening his arm. The pain went beyond mere agony.

Crichton slumped to his knees. The creature removed the blades from his arm and slowly walked across the room to retrieve its glaive. Crichton sat bent over, holding his arm, waves of hot searing pain rippled through him. He was battered and broken, barely able to remain conscious.

"_Use the spear, John…"_

Scorpius's voice rang in his head yet again. _"John, the spear. There is a yellow button on the handle. Point it at the creature and press the button."_

Crichton strained, lifting the spear with his good arm and holding it at the creature. It turned around, its eyes widening at the realization of what was about to happen. Grabbing the glaive off the wall where it had stuck, it pulled back its arm, ready to throw it.

His thumb found the pale yellow button nestled between the grooves of the spear's handle.

"_Now, Crichton! Press the button now!"_

Depressing it, there was a _crack_ like a pistol firing. The spear's razor sharp tip flew from the handle like a harpoon and pierced the creature where its heart would be. Its body jerked back hard and hit the floor, a trail of blood briefly shooting upwards.

Crichton stood up carefully, trying to ignore the pain that ravaged his body. He walked over to the prone form of the creature, its chest convulsing and coughing up its glowing blood, and stood there watching it, silently as a ghost.

The irony was not lost on him. A grotesque head turned and met his gaze.

"Game over," Crichton said at last. "And to answer your question, yes, I have danced with the devil in the pale moonlight."

The creature looked at him a long time. _"Game over…"_ it said.

Opening the gauntlet on its other hand, a clawed finger pressed a sequence of buttons. A beeping noise became audible. Crichton watched the gauntlet. A series of lights were flashing in sequence with the beeping, growing faster as the cycle repeated itself.

"_This ends now." _It began to laugh.

"Aw hell," Crichton's eyes widened in horror, suddenly realizing what the device was. He ran to the control console. "Pilot of Acroyan are you there? Respond now!"

The image of _Acroyan's_ pilot appeared over the console's clamshell_. "Yes, I am here. Who is this?"_

"No time to explain. There is a bomb in here, open the airlock in the room underneath the ion backwash chamber! Hurry!"

"_What? But-"_

"You must listen to him, Pilot," Zhaan said frantically. "Crichton was fighting the creature that did this to Acroyan. You must trust him."

"OPEN THE AIRLOCK NOW!" Crichton screamed. The laughter from the creature increased in his ears along with the beeping from the bomb.

The pilot of the _Acroyan_ swung around and depressed a panel on the left side of her console.

"Crichton? Crichton? Are you in here? Are you all right?" Jhennazim ran into the room as the airlock began to open.

He saw her just in time. "Jhennazim! Grab onto something, the airlock is opening!"

There was a roar and a hurricane gust of air, as the door opened wide onto the vacuum of space, pulling everything that was not attached out the airlock. Tools, weapons, an unfortunate DRD as well as Selane's severed head and body were all pulled out into the Nil's dark maw.

Crichton and Jhennazim held on for dear life, each with an arm wrapped around the support strut of the control console. Jhennazim's garments flapped wildly, in danger of tearing off and losing what little she had left of her clothing. Crichton held fast, fighting the blinding pain from his injuries.

The creature began to slide towards the door. As it reached the edge, it hooked its gauntlet blades against the edge of the airlock, resolving to hold on and take the ship with it. Over the roar of escaping air, the creature's laugh still grew louder.

Crichton looked for something, anything that could jar the creature loose. He was rewarded by the rattling sound of metal dragging on the floor. He looked over and saw Aeryn's pulse rifle.

He grabbed it as it slid past him on its way towards the airlock. He did not even need to exert himself to lift or aim it. The pull of the vacuum leveled the rifle right at the creature's head. It's eyes widened in surprise. Crichton laughed, his expression triumphant.

"You lose!" He squeezed the trigger.

There was a brilliant flash and a final cry of anger as the creature's body hurled out into the void. With the airlock cleared, the door automatically shut. Everything was silent again, except for the vibrations and low thrumming of the _Acroyan's_ engines as they powered back to life.

Then, the explosion came. Both Moya and the _Acroyan_ rocked back and forth from the shockwave as the bomb detonated. Between the ships, there was a ball of fire expanding like a dying star. The thick hulls of Moya and the _Acroyan_ withstood the heat, but the unexpected blast had taken both their pilots by surprise.

"Oh! That was a low yield nuclear explosion!" Pilot said, startled. "Where did that come from?"

"Is Moya all right?" Chiana asked, regaining her balance from the shifting of Moya's position.

"Yes, she is fine. So is Acroyan. We are detecting his power is back on and all functions are returning." Pilot looked again at his control console. "But, that unidentified ship is now approaching us."

****

Crichton and Jhennazim lay there for several moments. Their clothes and hair disheveled. Their breathing was heavy, but slowing down to normal. They could easily agree they had seen better days if one wanted to bring up the subject.

Jhennazim reached out and brushed her fingers lightly over his wounds. "Crichton, are you all right?"

"I'm busted up pretty bad," he said, gasping for breath. "I'm really starting to feel it now."

Jhennazim sat up and placed her hands over his chest. The crackling noise and the blue sparks on the tips of her fingers flowed out of her as Crichton felt his ribs knitting themselves, bones straightening, wounds healing and pain subsiding. As she finally finished, she collapsed onto his chest, drained from the process.

"You should really go into private practice, babe," Crichton said jokingly. "You would make a serious fortune."

"I need a vacation first."

The image of _Acroyan's_ female pilot appeared over the control console_. "Commander John Crichton, are you there?"_

He stood up slowly, helping Jhennazim to her feet. "Still alive, Pilot. Is everyone all right?"

"_Yes. Acroyan is unharmed from the explosion. However, we need to inform you that the Moya and we have detected an unidentified craft slowing down to dock with us. Right in your vicinity, in fact."_

"Damn," he whispered. The whole chamber shook as a ship docked outside, and the sound of the airlock being engaged alerted them to a new intruder. He faced the closed hatch, shielding Jhennazim behind him. He inspected Aeryn's pulse rifle and cursed. It was now empty.

The airlock opened into a dark tunnel. Several transparent distortions quickly appeared along the edges of the airlock, and materialized into more of the alien creatures that had hunted those on the Acroyan. Another appeared. Then another. Then another.

Crichton stood his ground. There were now ten of them standing before him, inspecting the blood trails on the floor that led out the airlock. A glowing green smear intermixed with dark red, still wet on the floor, told them the story.

One of the creatures approached Crichton. It was as big as the one he just fought, and equipped the same way the other one had been. He looked down at the now useless pulse rifle in his hand, and let it drop to the floor.

The creature looked down at it momentarily and returned its gaze to the exhausted human. Reaching behind its back, it pulled out a long curved sword, still in its sheath. He tensed.

Bending down on one knee, the creature bowed forward and presented the sword to Crichton, lifting it up for him to take. He hesitated, confused by the gesture.

"Take it," Jhennazim whispered.

He gently grasped the weapon with both hands and claimed it. The creature stood back up, turned around and walked back through the airlock. The others followed, each one turning invisible as it entered into the dark corridor of its vessel and disappeared into the shadows.

With a hiss, the airlock closed. Crichton heard the ship undocking and departing, fading away again into the Nil.

He stood there for a long time, trying to absorb what had happened. Jhennazim gently took his hand and broke him out of his daze.

"Come. Let's go find the others," she said. "We can tell them it's all over now. You've beaten the creature."

"I beat the creature." He held the sword up they had given him, his trophy from the battle. His heart leaped into his throat.

The sword was ornate, with a slight curve in the blade. Unsheathing it, it was razor sharp on one side, blunt on the other, with a brilliant mirror finish. The handle was long and black, decorated with golden dragons and wrapped in a silken red cord, braided tightly.

Crichton inhaled sharply. It was a katana, the sword of a samurai; a sword from Japan; from Earth.

"_You did well, John. I am very impressed with you,"_ said the voice of Scorpius_. "You have earned your rest from me. I will leave your thoughts for now. But rest assured, I am still in here, keeping you free from harm until I return to claim the knowledge you have."_

Lowering his head, he closed his eyes.

****

Crichton leaned against the window of Moya's terrace. _Acroyan_ followed Moya's path from behind of the Nil's dark swirling clouds and into normal space. From there, he veered off to their left and starburst away for the first time in over fifty cycles.

With the DRDs re-activated, cleaning up the _Acroyan_ and disposing of the bodies was left to their capable functions. Disengaging his massive control collar had been put into the more experienced hands of Crichton and D'Argo, whose eyesight had been restored through Jhennazim's healing touch. This time around, unlike the freeing of Moya's collar, they performed the removal with considerably less trouble.

That accomplished, the _Acroyan_ and its new crew of ex-Peacekeepers and one escaped prisoner said their farewells. The pilot expressed her and _Acroyan's_ eternal gratitude. They were free to explore now, just like Moya. Pykis and a now-happier Kymera rounded up some supplies for the others. They were quite amicable with each other, Crichton had noticed. The Uncharted Territories looked to have a new future couple to contend with.

D'Argo expressed his thanks but preferred to leave immediately before he was attacked a third time- a bad omen to Luxans, it would seem. Zhaan gave her blessings from her goddess. Aeryn hugged him in gratitude and gave him her million-dollar smile, and then declared she needed a nice long shower. It had to be love.

Jhennazim had looked at him for a long time with those yellow, intense eyes. He could lose himself in them; he was not blind to that. But he would not afford to get lost. Beautiful as she was, she could never take her place.

"Stay with me."

He predicted how the conversation would go.

"I can't do that. There's someone-"

"We're so much alike. We're both lost from our homes. You saved me…"

"Pass it on," he said. "Help someone else who needs it one day." _Ironic_, he thought. He said that to Chiana once.

"I have been so lonely out here."

"I know the feeling. But I can't. Aeryn and I-"

"I understand." She was still sad.

"I do hope you find your home, though."

"Yes. Yours, too."

The starburst was beautiful. Faint sparks hung in the vacuum for microts before fading away for good. In the past, he had a hard time enjoying the image. Since on the few occasions he actually saw it, he got left behind. Not today, though. _Acroyan_ was gone. And Pykis, Kymera and Jhennazim…

Aeryn let out a sigh. He looked down to her, standing beside him and cradled under his arm. She turned the sword in her hands, inspecting its details.

"Feeling better?"

"Much," she said. "Did I tell you I was proud of you?"

"Only told me three times already."

She laughed. "Prepare for the fourth."

"I think I was just lucky. Selane came in there shooting. Scorpius was giving me advice…"

"You were there when it counted." She reached up and stroked his hair. "Are you still hearing him?"

"No. I think he's left for the time being. He said he's giving me a break. I guess I got lucky with that." He tapped his forehead. "I'm leading a charmed life, for now."

Her gaze went down at the sword she was holding. "And this is what the creatures gave you for beating one of their own?" She pulled it out of the sheath and inspected the craftsmanship. "It's a magnificent weapon."

"If you only knew the half of it. Did I mention it's from Earth?"

Her mouth opened slightly. She turned it in her hands again, studying it.

"It's a shame I didn't get to talk to them," he said. "Maybe they could have told me where Earth was."

She placed it back in the sheath. "They were there to hunt, John, not to help someone find their way home."

"I know."

She reached up and gently kissed his cheek. "We'll find it someday."

He allowed himself a smile. "Yeah. In the meantime, isn't there something we were supposed to do?"

"Yes. We should all be getting some dinner."

They turned to D'Argo's voice to see him walking in with Chiana wrapped around his arm, neither looking the worse for wear.

"Heavy D," Crichton said. "All recovered from our little ordeal, huh?"

"I've been helping out with his recovery," Chiana said. "He needed a _lot_ of recovery time."

"Don't go there," D'Argo warned.

They all laughed. "More than we needed to know Pip," Crichton said. "I'll bet your hungry, D."

"He groaned. "I would suggest we move it. I'm starving now, and Rygel will probably be trying to eat the good stuff those on the Acroyan gave us."

Crichton tapped his comm. "Is that true, Sparky? Are you already eating our winnings?"

"_And with great relish,"_ Rygel responded, his mouth full of food. _"As my way of saying thanks to those who assisted us, inferior beings that they are, I feel my best way to thank them is to enjoy every bite here."_

"That tears it," Crichton said with a devilish grin. He walked towards the doorway. "I got a sword, now, Buckwheat! I'm-a comin' to get ya! Hand over them fellip shanks or you get your butt filleted!" He turned to face the others. "Hey, you think he'll double over when he sees me with this?"

"Yeah, from laughter." Chiana giggled.

John pulled the sword from its scabbard. "I can be tough with this, watch my moves. How did that cartoon go? Daffy used a staff instead of a sword, but this should work. Ho! Ha! Ha! Guard! Turn! Parry! Dodge! Spin! Ha! Thrust!" His sword flared around, back and forth. "I'll scare that vindictive eating machine yet!"

"Ah, we would like to get to dinner without any serious injury," D'Argo said.

Aeryn laughed, in spite of herself. Standing in the doorway was a sight she never expected to see. John Crichton, sword raised, glorious in battle. Crichton the hunter; Crichton the warrior.

What an exciting image.

_Finis_


End file.
